Stung Through The Heart
by EVRyderWriter
Summary: Based on 60s TV Green Hornet. Britt Reid takes a big step: fatherhood. Temporarily. For one week, Britt will host a brother and sister from the local orphanage. They, however, hold a secret just as dangerous as his. A collision course has been set.
1. Chapter 1

_ Stung Through The Heart_

_ "Another challenge for the Green Hornet, his aide Kato, and their rolling arsenal, the Black Beauty. On Police records a wanted criminal, Green Hornet is really Britt Reid, owner-publisher of the Daily Sentinel, his dual identity known only to his secretary and to the district attorney. And now, to protect the rights and lives of decent citizens, rides THE GREEN HORNET."_

* * *

><p>The rain fell in driving sheets. Lightning blazed across the night sky, searing it apart. Thunder rolled heavily over the city. No one in their right mind would want to be out tonight. Not if they wanted to swim home. The streets were all but deserted. The sidewalks were empty and the streets lights obscured by the storm.<p>

The city had suffered one of the wettest summers on record. This storm just another piece to the statistics. At least there was one consolation for the soggy, bedraggled and drowned state of the living: the criminal element was just as waterlogged as everybody else.

Even the infamous Green Hornet and companion, sporting that dangerous car of theirs, hadn't been seen or heard of in weeks. Some wondered if he had been killed, or gone into hiding. He too was just riding out the weather and hoping for sunnier days to come.

Another bolt of lightening arched, illuminating the streets and buildings in an eerie blue-white aura. From one particular building, apartments in fact, a woman screams. Glass shatters and furniture is thrown. A man's angry voice punctuated by the sharp sounds of slaps. Another voice enters the fray, demanding him to stop, to leave her alone; a much younger voice. A child. A boy.

The man shoves him aside, knocking something else over in the process. The woman retaliates. A mother's love against brute strength is admirable, but completely lost on him. She is beaten down again. Again the boy rushes to her defense and again he is struck down. From out of this, another sound-gusty wails from a second child. A little girl. Her loud sobs only enrage him more. He thunders through the small apartment to silence her but both mother and son grab hold to stop him.

All three crash to the ground. Of course, the man is first up, kicking at the woman and boy. He's clearly had enough. His two victims are laid out on the floor, too winded and battered to stand. The girl child is still wailing. He reaches for a tipped over desk. Wrenching the broken drawer open, he pulls out his last option. The last resort. The one thing he always threatened with but never used. Until now.

His pistol is loaded and ready. The woman is crawling to her feet, her head coming up slowly, carefully. Blood, sweat and tears run down her face. What little color she has, drains as her eyes meet the shaking barrel.

She dares to look him in the eye, a plea on her lips. He only sneers. The dumb slut.

The boy watches in terror, unable to scream, unable to defend, completely paralyzed. The gun's muzzle flash, the crack of the bullet exploding forth. His mother falling. Bleeding. Dead.

Suddenly, the gun's turning on him. He's next. His mind screams "MOVE!" and he obeys. He lunges past the man, surprising him and runs into his sister's bedroom. Locks the door. Little good that will do. He has just seconds. The girl stops crying, wide-eyed. Thundering footsteps outside the door. The gun blasting the lock. The door swings open.

To an empty room, its single window wide open. The curtains flapping in the wind, rain on the sill and lightening in the sky.

* * *

><p><em>A week later…<em>

"A _party? _Aw, c'mon, Britt!"

Mike Axford threw down his morning edition.

"No. I refuse! I _hate _parties. Anything but that-I'll even do our Lonely Lover's column! But _NOT_ that. Never!"

His arms folded across his chest and his face set itself in an expression of pure, ornery determination. Britt Reid leaned back in his chair. One hand on his desk, the other under his chin. His mouth was set in a firm line while his aqua eyes stared at his senior reporter. The urge to run a hand through his short, brown-blonde hair was squashed.

"So. It's a definite no, then Mike. You won't do me this one favor?"

Axford's arms flew apart. "No! And don't try to guilt me into it!"

"Then don't do it for me!" His voice changed to a more innocent tone. "Do it for the kids, Mike. Those poor, helpless kids…."

Axford's face turned as red as his sparse hair. His arms went up in the air. "Bahhhhh! Shame, then? Shaming me into it. Dirty, lousy trick…! _ OKAY!_ I'll…I'll do it. I won't like it, mind you." He added, pointing at Britt. "But, I'll do it."

Britt's handsome face blossomed into a megawatt smile. He stood and clapped the older man on the shoulder. "Thanks, Mike! I knew I could count on you!"

"Yeah, yeah…but on one condition!"

Britt's smile faltered just a bit. "…_What _condition?"

Axford smile was just a sickly sweet as his voice. "_You_'ve got to buy me a tux!"

* * *

><p>Each year, the city's orphanage-the State Home for the Lost and Orphaned-held a charity gala to raise money. The wealthy came out in droves to shower support and generous donations for the benefit of the residents and staff. Not only that, the guests had the option of sponsoring a child and then hosting them for a week.<p>

Another way to further the future of the home and its children while helping those same children see how it could be. A life outside the walls with a family who loved and cared for them. The taste could be cruel, because when it was over, it was over. But the memories served as fuel to keep going, keep fighting, keep hoping.

Tonight was the glided event, held at the city's Warner Hall and catered by the renowned City Club. The red carpet was rolled out, the awning spread above it and the newsmen fighting for position. Each limo that pulled up was greeted by rapid camera flashes, applause and not-so-subtle oohs and ahhs. Indeed, the women saw this gala as just another chance to show off their finery. And what finery it was!

Britt Reid's black limo was towards the middle of the pack. He'd rented it for the night, with his own 'after-party' in mind. In the driver's seat, as kind of an 'inside joke' between the two, was Kato.

He was Britt's valet, friend and partner in their Green Hornet exploits. He drove the Black Beauty as the Hornet's masked companion. It was almost like a limousine itself. Hence his driving of the real limo; a sort of "If we can't do one tonight, we can do another."

They'd gotten a chuckle out of it, at any rate. Instead of his black chauffeur uniform he wore on other, unmentionable nights, he wore a white version. He kept his eyes frontward instead of his usual rear-view mirror checks on his boss and the outside world while he drove the Beauty. In this case, he figured some privacy was called for. His boss had quite a lovely lady on his arm. He couldn't recall her name…Kato knew she was some old college girlfriend back in town.

From the back, he heard the tinkle of her laugh.

Of course. Crystal Monahan. That was her name. Kato allowed himself a peek-his boss was whispering in her ear. Her eyes danced, a hand on his knee, cheeks on fire. He put his eyes back on the road. A beauty, but then again, this _was _Britt Reid.

Cameras were beginning to flash on the windshield. He pressed a button on his dash and spoke into the speaker.

"We are nearly at the carpet entrance."

Britt took his time answering. Eventually… "Thanks, Kato."

The valet closed the line with a smirk.

* * *

><p>Mike Axford, Daily Sentinel reporter and police hound, was the very definition of "fish out of water" this night. He tugged at his collar and fiddled with his black tie. He tried to remember the last time he felt so <em>uncomfortable. <em>He currently stood out on the red carpet of the venerable Warren Hall at the Charity Gala for the orphanage. Waiting, of course, for his dear old boss, Britt Reid.

This was his fault, after all. If he hadn't insisted, and cajoled and shamed him, Axford could be home, sleeping. Or, better yet, down at police headquarters. At least he'd be doing something _useful!_ Instead of _this! A charade!_

The camera flashes and jumbled voices were beginning to give him a headache. He was sick of pretending to care about the dresses and the jewelry; of jotting down stuff he knew didn't matter. The indignation of the whole thing really burned him-the waste!

Axford's pencil broke in his grip and he realized his broiling temper was getting the best of him. After all, it _was _for a good cause. He looked up at the next big cheer. Britt Reid stepped out of the back of a gleaming limo. On his arm, came one of the most gorgeous woman Axford had ever seen.

Had he seen her before, though? Seems to him he had, some time ago. But couldn't remember when or where. Blonde hair, almost silver, swept up on her head. Tanned, flawless skin. A sapphire blue dress with matching gems in an earring, necklace and bracelet set. A quick glimpse of her ankles before she fixed her dress revealed blue and silver-accented pumps.

And her own vivid blue eyes never left Britt's face.

They walked down the carpet, waving, greeting onlookers and reporters alike. Quite the handsome couple…enough that it set pens and pencils afire on the pads of reporters present. Axford closed his mouth in time for Britt to see him. Dressed to the nines in a tailored black tuxedo, he was dashing.

"Hello, Mike. Glad you made it. Erm…nice tux."

Axford scowled. He turned to the lady, however, with a smile and a slight tip of the head.

"Hello, ma'am. I _think _we've met. But then again…."

Britt chuckled and pulled her closer. She gazed longingly into his face, a warm smile all for him.

"You mean you don't remember?"

"No. Sorry I don't."

Britt looked to her. "What do you think? Insult or not?"

She laughed, a very pleasing sound. "Oh, no. Britt, it was a long time ago." She looked back to Axford and extended her hand.

"I'm Crystal Monahan. I went to college with Britt. We're old friends."

Axford shook it, realization dawning. "Of course! I remember! You used to come over to the Sentinel all the time! Back when Britt's father was still running it."

"Yes! You do remember!"

Britt looked behind him. A bunch-up was beginning to occur on the carpet. "Looks like we better go inside. We're holding up traffic."

* * *

><p>Little hands clutched other little hands. Small voices murmured. Heads hung low, nerves frayed, fear rising. They had been chosen, but would they do right? Would they get the prize of sponsorship? Or would they stay behind? Waiting for that day, if it ever came, that they were taken away from all this. It was more than enough to force tears and tantrums.<p>

Several nurses from the Orphanage were on-hand to calm and sooth while Mrs. Carter, the director of the Orphanage, kept a cool head. She spoke to the Mayor, the Governor, to anyone who came to her.

The children were just anxious. They all were. It was only natural-they ranged from fifteen to four in age. The fifteen year olds were sick of waiting and hoping only to have it all dashed on the rocks over and over. The knowledge that in three years, they'd be set out on their own was quite a bitter thought as well. The four year olds were just bewildered and scared.

This didn't help the poor nurses as they too were on pins and needles. They wanted the best for the children. If this could help not only the chosen group but the rest of the Home? They would do all they could for that. But by the end of the night, tears would fall again, and dreams would fall apart. Sadly, not all of them would be sponsored-just a select few. They could only deal with that when the time came.

"Mrs. Carter?"

The older woman was watching the gala from their designated waiting area, usually a ladies powder room. The younger voice that called her name from behind was one of her nurses. She closed the door and turned.

"Yes, Nurse Cameron?"

Nurse Jennie Cameron bowed her head, her hands folded demurely in front of her. Like the others, she wore her brown hair in a severe bun under her white cap and a cleanly pressed white uniform with the Home's crest on the breast pocket. It only made her appear more innocent, more naive. She was one of the new hires…not well-verse in the nuances of state work. Some or most of it would hurt, depress and frustrate. In the end, if she was made of the right stuff, she would feel it was all worth it.

Tonight, however, would be among one of her many frustrations, and depressions. She would see children she had come to love crushed by the whims of those more fortunate. It would be a test in her ideals, her beliefs and her choice of employment.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, but…it's John and little Mary. They say they won't go out. John called it a circus and won't have his little sister 'paraded about'." A wry smile. "You know how…_opinionated _he can be."

Mrs. Carter smiled knowingly. Yes. John and his little sister, Mary. He wouldn't give their last names the night they came in. The night they came in…. Last week, during the worst summer storm, they had arrived. He was bloody and bruised, appearing as though he had been beaten quite thoroughly . His little sister, Mary, was dragged in behind him in complete shock. Wide, unseeing eyes…thumb in her mouth.

John wouldn't say and Mary couldn't say what had happened. He wouldn't even give their ages. Considering how they came in, the Home gave them the name of Waters until their situation could be straightened out, if ever. John was estimated to be around ten or eleven while Mary a mere five year old. As to what happened-something had. The cuts and bruises on John were just healing and Mary was still in a shell. Not speaking, her thumb stuck resolutely in her mouth.

One thing was for sure: John was older and wiser beyond his years. His cynical view was something Mrs. Carter and her nurses had yet to see before. He could be biting, always speaking his mind. He saw his opinion as the only one that mattered, especially when it came to his sister. His protective nature towards her was unbelievable but incredibly touching.

So why had they been part of the chosen group? Not only could a sponsorship and its increased public exposure help solve their case, but…this boy and this girl _needed _it. It was obvious the boy hadn't had a male role model in his life, that he had to fend for himself and his sister alone. Mary could break her shell, she could. The nurses stayed with her everyday at the Home. They talked to her, played with her…but they were an old sight by now. Something new and interesting might help.

"Does he, now? He was all for it just a few hours ago."

"Yes, Ma'am, but…he says that if we try to force him…he'll leave. And take his sister with him."

Mrs. Carter took a breath and clasped her hands together. "Well. We'll have to see about that."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The two walked to the back of the room. Away from the comfy cushions the children had taken a liking to. Away from the bright lights and large, dual mirrors, to a back entrance to the room. Seated against the door was John and Mary. He held her hand and stared straight ahead, eyes hard and cold. Mary's thumb was even more firmly set in her mouth.

Mrs. Carter motioned for Nurse Cameron to stay back while she went to them. John shifted his accusing gaze to her approaching figure.

"You can't make us do this. We were chosen…we were volunteered for this. We can just as easily _un_volunteer ourselves and leave."

She regarded him coolly. "Yes. Yes, you could. But where would you go? What would you do? Despite your convictions of adulthood, _you are a child. _Even if you did get a job, however legal and honest it might be…what would happen to little Mary? Who would watch her, take care of her?

"Until we know or _you _tell us about your situation, you are to stay here. _Here _is your best chance, not out there. While you are _here_…you obey _our _rules, _our _decisions. You know this already, John. So. Our decision to make you and your sister a part of this group, to be given a chance not all have, is _final. _Do you understand?"

The boy's unforgiving glare softened just to look to his sister. It returned when he looked back to Mrs. Carter.

"For Mary. I'll stay for her. But don't expect anything more from me."


	2. Chapter 2

_ Chapter 2_

Kato leaned against the limousine's drive side door with his arms folded across his chest. His face was a cool mask of impassiveness. He'd been approached by the other drivers, waiting just as he was, outside Warner Hall. They'd offered him a smoke by way of breaking the ice. They should have figured when he declined, that was a sign of total disinterest in conversation. Then again…they weren't exactly a very open-minded lot. They asked him who he had driven and Kato offered Britt's name and nothing more. He didn't have to. It was enough of a starter for them to launch into the most recent gossip.

Britt Reid was secretly married to some socialite from New York City; he was going to sell the Sentinel the second he got a reasonable offer; this and that and this and that. Kato tuned them out. Eventually they got the message and left him alone. He glanced up at the building, the piece of him that was Britt's partner and enforcer/bodyguard while the two were masked acutely present in the back of his mind. No danger. He was fine, completely safe and having fun.

He sighed. At least Britt was enjoying himself. They hadn't been out in the Black Beauty in weeks. No need. The city had been quiet, too waterlogged and bedraggled to act up. He itched for action. Then he would remember their kind of action meant they were always one step closer to that time, God forbid it, when they wouldn't make it home. It was a depressing thought, enough to make his mind whirl every time he hazard to even consider it. It was, unfortunately, central to their work. If they forgot how fragile life was, they could get careless, inviting deadly mistakes.

He cracked his knuckles. He and Britt had made it this far, injuries severe and not so severe not withstanding. Kato was keen to keep it that way. Let Britt relax, let him have his guard down just enough to have fun. Who knows, maybe the city had dried out. Maybe it was ready to wake up and start anew. After that, nights like this would be the thing of the past.

* * *

><p>Crystal Monahan felt like a princess this night. Dressed and bejeweled in luxury, dancing in the arms of her prince. Oh, she could go on like this forever. Britt Reid held her close as they gently swayed to the soft music. She took a deep breath and smelled his aftershave, a perfect blend that sent her spinning. She laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck with her nose. He smiled and looked down.<p>

"Tired?"

"No." she answered in a breathy voice. "I'm not tired. I won't allow myself to be tired. Not when everything is so perfect."

Britt shifted his hold on her. "Having fun, then?"

"Of course." She brought her head up. Immediately, those intense eyes of his, colored like the sea, held her and wouldn't let go. She could stay locked within their gaze until the end of days and it still wouldn't be enough.

"Aren't you?"

He brought her in close once more, his chin against her forehead. She felt him shrug.

"I guess. You know me and how I am with big parties."

She smiled. "Yes, of course. You would rather stay home, have a quiet, candle-lit dinner and listen to records while conversing in all things popular."

"You make me sound like an anti-social intellectual, you know that?"

She laughed and further buried her head in his shoulder. The tuxedo did little to hide his broad back and chest. She remembered he'd always been fit while they were in college, but there seemed to be more of that quiet strength to him than before. He carried himself with far more purpose and duty.

"Come to think of it…." she murmured. "I wouldn't mind a quiet evening at home. Not if it's with you."

He didn't respond, he didn't need to. She felt as though he wouldn't mind either, just by the way he held her, looked at her. She wouldn't dare think of this night as anything more than two old friends reconnecting after a few years apart. She feared that if she hoped for anything more, it would all disappear.

Crystal became aware of another presence hovering over Britt's shoulder and felt him look to see who it was.

"Oh, Mike. It's you. Didn't see you come up."

She picked her head off his shoulder. Leave it to Mike Axford, Britt's resident newshound, to ruin the mood. Oh, he was an endearing old soul with his determinedly Irish demeanor. She quite liked him, really. He just seemed to have a knack for showing up when least wanted.

"Yeah, sorry to bust in like this. I just got word they're going to start sending some of the kids out."

"Oh?"

Just then, the music hit its final notes and the lights came up. The guests clapped politely as they turned to watch the stage. An older woman, dressed conservatively in a blue skirt, black pumps and a white blouse, had appeared and was waiting for the guest to quiet. She had a sharp nose to match her hawkish, steel gray eyes. Her gray hair was pulled back and pinned up off her thin face.

When it was a quiet enough for her to speak, she did so in a surprisingly strong voice.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman. My name is Margaret Carter, the Director of the State Home for the Lost and Orphaned. I wish to thank all of you for coming out tonight in support of my children and cause. Really, they are _all _our children, and the cause to find them good, nurturing homes ours to shoulder. Here, tonight, is a select group of those children.

"They are representative of the hundreds we shelter, clothe and feed on a daily basis. They will be among you, mingling. So please talk to them, get to know them. Then we will begin the signing of sponsorships. If any of you are interested in supporting an individual child or children through their time at the Home, please sign a sponsorship agreement.

"I will also remind you of this: should you become a sponsor, you will be allowed to host your chosen child or children for one week. I wish for you to keep that mind before taking this very important and generous step. Thank you."

She walked off-stage and from the side of the hall, a door opened. A line of fifteen children walked single-file out onto the floor. They ranged from teenagers to small children. The older kids had a distinct weariness about them as they took the first steps toward the richly dressed strangers. They stopped and the younger ones flinched when these strangers began clapping.

For them? Why would they clap for them? Yet, as they looked around them, they saw no other reason why these people should be applauding. Small smiles and the relaxing of hunched shoulders went through the group. When the noise had subsided, they steadily dispersed through the crowd.

Britt hadn't noticed the crooked grin he was sporting until Crystal did and giggled.

"What?"

"The look on your face is priceless! You'd think you've never seen a child before."

"Oh. Well. Um…"

He was saved by a short, but strong tug on his pant leg. He looked down to see the biggest set of green eyes on the cutest red-headed doll. She was no more than seven, with dimples and freckles. Britt's heart melted. He wondered how anyone could give up such an adorable child.

He knelt and held out his hand.

"Hi."

"Hi." she replied and shook his hand.

"I'm Britt."

"I'm Bridgett."

"Nice to meet you, Bridgett."

A toothy grin crossed her face and she shook his hand more vigorously. "Nice to meet you, Britt. That's a funny name-you're not a girl. Why would your parents name you that if you were a boy?"

He laughed out loud, a booming sound that turned a few heads. Crystal covered her mouth to stop from laughing as well. Mike still hovered, a goofy look on his face. This Bridgett girl was a kid after his own heart!

"I…I don't know, Bridgett. That's what they named me. Maybe they were hoping for a girl and got me instead. Had to name me something."

The little child pondered his answered then shrugged. "Oh well. It's okay. Just never heard a boy with a girl's name."

Britt swallowed another laugh. The girl suddenly turned solemn. "At least yours named you. Mine didn't…the Home did. I was dropped off after I was born. They never could figure out who my parents were." She shrugged again.

Britt's brow furrowed and he put his hands on her shoulders tenderly. Her eyes met his and the thought of sponsoring this girl flooded his mind. He could, wanted very much to do so. Just as quickly as they'd turned on him, those big eyes were torn over his shoulder. Bridgett stepped around Britt and waved to someone. He straightened to look over his shoulder…and saw a sight that more than shocked him.

Bridgett gave him a sideways look and stopped mid-wave. "What's the matter? That's only John and Mary. They're new but…I think we're friends."

Still standing by the door they had come out of, were two children. One much older than the other. Boy and girl. The boy was at least ten years, the girl just about five. The haunted look in their eyes, especially in the boy's, grabbed his attention immediately .

It was a look of heartfelt fear, mistrust and most of all, anger. It roiled and boiled inside a person, burning the insides while turning the outside cold and hard. So hard, nothing could hurt anymore and so cold, no one could get close to cause pain.

This boy's eyes held it all. Britt remembered his look. He'd seen it before. On himself. After his father's betrayal and subsequent passing; after watching him fall and standing helpless to stop it. He'd held that look for anyone who dared try and help him. Britt eventually pulled himself out of it when the Green Hornet idea was born, but he would never forget it.

He'd also thought he'd never see it again, especially on one so young. The little girl whose hand the boy held appeared shell-shocked, her eyes as big as saucers but unfocused. Her thumb was stuck in her mouth as she stared straight ahead.

They were dressed as the others were: the boy in black slacks and a white polo; the girl in black flats, black skirt and a white blouse. Yet they weren't like the others. The others didn't look dead, didn't look as though they'd lost their very soul. The girls didn't look empty as this one did and no other boy had cuts and bruises about his face and arms.

"What did you say their names were again, Bridgett?" Britt finally managed.

"John and Mary. John's so…I dunno. And Mary doesn't do anything else except suck her thumb. But I talk to them. Don't get any answers, really. Still, I think we're friends." she said with all the innocent surety of a typical child.

"Thanks." He tousled her hair affectionately. "I'll go over and see if I can get them to join us, okay? You stay here." He looked to Crystal and Mike before walking through the crowd toward the two.

He approached cautiously, trying to show he wasn't a threat. Whatever had happened to these kids had been bad enough to turn them this way. He didn't want them completely hardened against him and walk the other way before Britt could even utter a word. He noticed the boy's gaze lock on him, assessing. He took a slightly more protective stance toward the girl and tightened his grip on her hand.

Britt knelt down on the boy, John's, level and smiled in a friendly, non-confrontational way.

"Hey, I'm Britt." he stuck his hand out. The boy only shot a look down at it then back at his face. He dropped it but pointed to the girl.

"This must be Mary." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Crystal, Mike and Bridgett, still out on the dance floor. No doubt watching the exchange closely.

"My friends and I were just talking to Bridgett. She told me you guys were pals. I thought you could come over and join us. I think she would like that very much. So would I."

John looked over Britt's shoulder sharply to Bridgett, who caught his eye with a wave. He sneered nastily.

"Her? _She's _not my friend. None of these brats are my friends. I just let her talk to me cuz she ain't got nothing better to do. I figure if I tell her to shove off, I'll get beef from the nurses and Director Carter over there. That's the last thing I need."

To say one could have pushed Britt over with a feather just then would have been an understatement. He was completely floored by the boy's cutting remarks. He swallowed and attempted not to sound too shocked.

"O-oh. I see. Um. Well…maybe Mary would like to come over with me."

Britt made his mistake of the night, when he reached for Mary's hand. He hadn't even come within an inch of her when John yelled and shoved him away, hard. Already on his hunches, the fall wasn't too painful. It still jolted him. The hall went silent and turned a bewildered eye toward the scene. Several nurses and Director Carter rushed over. Not far behind was Crystal, Mike and little Bridgett. Britt felt the burn of embarrassment on his face, so it wasn't a far stretch in feigning it for the sake of those watching.

He laughed at himself and got to his feet without taking the offered assistance.

"Mr. Reid! Are you alright? What happened here?" Mrs. Carter demanded, shooting John a look.

The boy had backed away from all the excitement, he and his sister now voluntarily pinned against the door to the room they'd come out of. His glare remained on Britt, daring him to blow the whistle. It would be just like an adult to screw a kid over. John had had it happen before, plenty of times. He should be used to it…but it still hurt.

"Nothing happened." Britt said, waving it off. "I…must have put myself off-balance. I'd knelt down to talk to John and Mary here. When I went to get up, I went over backwards instead. I still can't believe it happened!"

"But, I-_we_-heard John yell."

"John yell?" Britt caught John's eye and held it. "He probably did. Probably just as surprised as I was. It was nothing. Sorry to have caused a fuss. I'm fine, honest."

It was evident that Mrs. Carter and her nurses didn't believe him. Even Crystal and Mike looked uncertain but Britt's laughing the whole thing off was enough to disperse the crowd . Little Bridgett took the opportunity to run over to John and attempt to hug him.

"Oh, please, John! Be nice to Britt. He's such a gre-"

"Shut up." John snapped at her, pushing her away. Whatever she had wanted to say was replaced by a huff and a surprised, "Oh!"

"John! I warn you!" Mrs. Carter stepped up to grab his wrist forcefully but he pulled free. Lanced each of the adults with the coldest stare Britt had ever seen a child muster.

"Leave me alone. All of you. I didn't want to be here in the first place. I didn't ask for this! So you can all go shove it!"

He spun and pushed the door open, pulling his sister with him. It slammed in their faces. Mrs. Carter rapped on the door insistently. "John! John, you open this door this instant! John…!"

She sighed and turned to face Britt and his two friends. "I'm really very sorry, Mr. Reid. John's such an impetuous, willful child. Every effort has been given to him. He just refuses to let us help him."

Britt looked to the door. "No. I think I can understand him."

"Yes. Well. The sponsorship signing should be starting in a few minutes. Nurse Cameron…."

She turned to address the young nurse still standing beside her. Britt was remiss not to have noticed her before this. She was quite pretty in a doe-like way.

"Yes, Mrs. Carter?" Her answer was in quiet obedience.

"Try and see if you can do something about John and his sister. They respond to you best. I do need them out here…whatever good it will do."

"Yes, Ma'am. Of course."

She nodded politely to Mike and Crystal, while her eyes lingered just a bit longer on Britt. She disappeared behind the door. Mrs. Carter smoothed her skirt and took hold of Bridgett's hand. The child still fumed over her 'friend's' rebuke.

"Come, Bridgett. My apologies again, Mr. Reid, for any upset John might have caused you. I hope you don't think all our children are like that and sign a sponsorship tonight. Goodbye."

She pulled a waving Bridgett with her as she made her way to the stage. Already, tables had been set up for the signing. Nurses from the Home were shuffling the paper agreements.

Britt grabbed Crystal's arm and followed the older woman's path. She went but not without question. Mike took up the rear, also with a questioning look.

"Britt, why did you lie like that? That boy pushed you, didn't he?"

He kept walking, his eyes anywhere but her face. She pulled on him to stop and he did. Mike put on the brakes so he wouldn't stumble into her from behind.

"Didn't he?" she repeated, her hands on his upper arm. He sighed.

"Yes. He did. But… something happened to that boy and his sister. Something that made them the way they are. Cold, hard, stuck in a shell. I had that same look when I lost my father. All he needs is for somebody to care. That's all it took for me."

_And becoming a masked vigilante bent on taking the criminal element out of the city for good._

_ "_So, what are ya saying, Britt?" Mike asked, coming around to face him.

"I'm saying I'm going to help him."

"What?" Both cried at the same time.

"I'm going to sponsor him and his sister. Look, they're going to start the signing soon. I want you right up there, okay, Axford?"

"Yeah, sure. But-"

Britt cut him off, turning to Crystal and taking her by the shoulders. He made sure she saw he was serious.

"I want you to do me a big favor. I want you to sponsor Bridgett."

Crystal was flabbergasted, pulling back on his grip. "What? Britt, what is the matter with you? You're acting so strange…! First you want to sponsor a boy bent on alienating everyone around him. _Now _you want _me _to be a sponsor?I have no time for a child!"

"Crystal, please! I was going to sponsor her. I don't know how anybody could give up such a cute a kid, but I wanted her to have a chance. I can't, now. Not with John and Mary. She's a sweetheart. You'll love having her around. It's only a week, anyway. You can make time for her, can't you?"

She silently searched his face, pondering what he had said. She finally nodded stiffly.

"Fine. If it will make you-and her-happy."

Britt smiled brilliantly and kissed her swiftly on the lips. When he suddenly pulled away and practically jogged toward the tables, she was left behind with her mouth open.

Mike grinned and offered her his arm. "That's Britt for ya."

"Yes. Quite."

Mrs. Carter took the stage again and signaled the gathered crowd for silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please. The sponsorship signings will now begin. Five of my nurses are set up at these tables to accommodate you, so do be patient. The children will be right in front of the stage here. Each have a name tag so you will be able to discern them. Give them the name of your child and they will set up the contract. A nurse will visit in the next day or two to discuss the formalities. Thank you."

The crowd started buzzing as several people stepped up to sign. Britt was among them. He searched for John and Mary, but didn't see them. Disappointed, he stepped back and brought Crystal up to the table.

She gave him a look that clearly said she didn't agree with this, but would do it anyway. She asked for Bridgett and the nurse quickly filled out the form.

"Sign here, please." The nurse said, pointing to the bottom of the paper. Crystal gave Britt another look before taking the pen and flourishing her name. By that time, Britt saw Nurse Cameron bringing the two wayward children back to the front. She smiled shyly when she saw Britt watching. He smiled back.

He tried to give John a smile, too. The boy turned away, scowling. It was then that the thought of him making a mistake by doing this sprang up. He had to believe it was right. It _felt_ right!

Crystal held her copy of the contract in her hand. She touched Britt's hand.

"Well. There they are."

"Yeah."

He watched Nurse Cameron pin name tags on their shirts and step back, smoothing John's hair. He swatted her hand away. Britt stepped up to the table and took up a pen. Two tables down, Axford was interviewing some of the new sponsors.

"Would you like to become a sponsor tonight?" The nurse asked as a formality.

"Yes. I'd like to sponsor John and Mary." He replied, his eyes firmly on the two. The boy's face scrunched up in puzzlement. He pulled his sister closer to him when the nurse gave the contract to Britt for his signature. He gave it back and received his copy in return.

When Nurse Cameron received a handful of those same contracts, she was relieved to see John and Mary's name on one of them. And Britt Reid's signature on the bottom. Her face flushed, a completely unexpected reaction on her part. His name, to her, for not even knowing the man, was an assurance. That must mean something, didn't it? That this _needed_ to happen.

She took John's hand and wouldn't let go.

"We've been sponsored, haven't we."

"Yes, John. You have."

The boy pursed his lips.

_Three guesses on who the sucker is. And the first two don't count._

* * *

><p>Kato wouldn't allow himself to doze or fall asleep completely like the other drivers. It wasn't in his controlled nature to just drop out when there was a job to be done. So he was the first to alert on the gala's breaking up. The gaggle of reporters taking the steps two at a time was a promising sign. When they held their cameras ready for shooting, shouting and calling for the not-yet visible party-goers to turn this way or that, it was certain. Finally, their targets appeared and their voices rose.<p>

Kato automatically narrowed in on the sight of several new guests, ones that hadn't arrived in the beginning. Young ones. Some of them mere children. His brow unwrinkled as he remembered the big attraction of the night was the sponsorship signing and then the subsequent hosting of the chosen child. He was a little taken aback to see Britt's date, Crystal Monahan, with her own little sponsor in tow. The woman was a beauty, known for extravagance…but motherly intuition? Well….

She stopped to pose for the cameras, allowing them to get several pictures of her new little friend. The girl was a cute redhead totally enthralled with the bright surroundings. The other children, he saw, held the same awed expression. Odd, though. He didn't see Britt. He saw Mike Axford, though. Trying desperately hard to keep up with the younger, sprier reporters.

Ah. There was Britt. Stranger still, he was hanging back; not trying to catch up to his date or Axford, both of whom had cleared the stairs.

"Kato!" He looked away from Britt, to Crystal, as she approached the limo.

"Ms. Monahan." he said crisply. A giggle came from the small figure beside her. Kato looked down, eyebrows raising. The girl had such large green eyes.

"You talk funny." Normally, Kato would have been peeved but this time? He could only smile wider.

"Who is your cute friend?"

"Kato, this is Bridgett. Bridgett, this is Kato. He's Britt's friend, too."

She giggled again but held out her hand. "And a funny name. You and Britt both."

His gloved hand dwarfed hers, which was quite an accomplishment for him considering he wasn't the biggest of men.

Crystal chuckled and held her closer to her side.

"She's made quite a few friends tonight. Haven't you, Bridgett dear."

"Mmmhmm! But I like Britt best."

"And he's charmed another!"

Kato smiled but had gone back to looking for Britt, concerned. Could something be wrong?

"…Are you looking for Britt?"

"Yes, I am."

"He's coming. Slowly but surely. He can't go too fast or he'll lose his new friends."

He noticed her wry tone. "What do you mean, 'new friends'?"

"This was all Britt's idea. Me sponsoring Bridgett. She is such a darling but…." She looked down at the child. "I was so ill prepared. You know how infectious Britt's enthusiasm is. So…here we are."

Kato stepped up on the sidewalk and stood next to her, watching Britt descend the stairs slowly, stopping every few feet to turn around and raise his hand encouragingly. Most of the others were already gone or just departing in their own limos. Even Mike had disappeared, running off with the other newsmen. Quiet was rapidly descending. Kato excused himself from Crystal and went to the steps, his left foot on the first step and leaned forward.

Britt turned from the middle steps and waved to him.

"Don't worry, Kato. I'm coming."

"Take your time." he shot back.

The lights illuminating the front of the Warner Hall where suddenly shut off and Kato heard Britt say, "They don't waste any time, do they? Come on, John! Mary!"

Kato squinted. John? Mary? He could make out small outlines shuffling down the steps. Their hands were intertwined, one leading the other. He mounted the steps further, all the way to Britt. His boss grinned at his confusion.

"I thought you'd be confused. Honestly, I took myself by surprise. But…I had to do it."

"Do what?"

The small outlines melted into full view. So sullen, so mistrusting, so angry. The eyes so devoid of emotion, except for cold fury. The thin bodies clothed by, cheap uniformed fabric. Their hands held so tightly, as if that alone would protect them. The thumb stuck in the mouth, an obvious habit. The cuts and bruises…physical harm to cover whatever obvious mental and emotional hurt had been brought upon them.

"Sponsor these two. Kato, meet our week-long house-guests: John and Mary."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

Dawn had barely broken over the city. Few people went about their ways at this hour; few cars ambled along the streets. In the city's 'Red Light District', the infamous West Side section where the Green Hornet and the likes of him could wander freely, the bars were emptying from the previous night.

The Side Street Bar, aptly named for its position on the very first side street of the district, had had a particularly heavy crowd. Its regulars, most still stumbling drunk, piled out to get on with their day. For many, that constituted picking up where they'd left off. Two men, however, walked against the crowd, into the bar.

They were polar opposites in an almost comical sense. One was much taller, and strongly built. His shirt and jacket struggled to cover his large body. His outfit and rugged appearance lent credence to his reputation as a brawler and part time dockworker. His smaller companion was stick thin and anemic. Sunken, shifty eyes and a grimy appearance made his nickname "Dirty Rat" seem all the more proper.

They took up two stools at the bar and ordered coffee with whiskey shots. When it was served, Dirty Rat hastily poured the liquor into the black coffee and swirled. He held it in both hands, drinking as if he had craved it. He set the empty cup down on the bar with a sigh and wiped his mouth on the back of a cruddy sleeve.

"So?" The much larger man prompted. Dirty Rat brought his eyes up but immediately dropped them.

"Um…erm…I-I-I checked and…and…and…." He stammered, grimacing as his nervous habit kicked into high gear. He took a deep breath and began again.

"I checked and everybody that was home that night either kept to their story of not hearing anything or…or…or still decided that they _didn't _hear anything. You know…."

"Good." The big man motioned for the bartender to refill the man's cup. Dirty Rat nodded gratefully and drank this one in the same deprived manner.

"What….what about y-y-you, Jack?"

Jack Rickert, the big man, shrugged. He finally took a sip of his coffee. "Nothing."

"N-n-nothing? Ha! Wh-what do you think that m-m-means?"

"I dunno. It was raining hard that night. Could have easily been run down by a car or gotten lost. All I care is they stay lost."

"But…if th-they don't?"

Jack shrugged again and his lips curled in a sneer. "Then I'll take care of it."

"Y-Yeah, Jack. Sure."

Jack raised his finger to the bartender once more. "Ya got the morning paper?"

"Sure, Jack. Got it right here."

The paper was plopped down in front of him. Today, it was the Daily Sentinel. The front page was taken up by a report on last night's Charity Gala for the benefit of the local orphanage. The article, written by a guy named Axford, was accompanied by a large, black and white picture of a rich dame named Crystal Monahan.

Dirty Rat had been reading over his shoulder and let out a low, appreciative whistle for the woman.

"W-wow. Quite the…the dish, Jack."

"Yeah. She is."

"Who's the kid with her?"

Jack read further. "Looks like she bought the kid or something. It's called sponsoring."

He folded the paper and tossed it back on the bar, disinterested. He took up his coffee cup and drank. Dirty Rat looked skittishly between Jack and the bartender before snatching the paper for himself. Jack gave him an annoyed look, then drained the rest of the cup. He tossed coins on the counter, enough to cover their drinks and the paper before motioning Dirty Rat it was time to go.

Out on the sidewalk, Jack shoved his hands in his jean pockets. Looked behind him as Dirty Rat bumbled and stumbled along while keeping his nose buried in the paper.

"Forget it, Rat. No ritzy dame would ever fall for a scumbag like you."

"I-I-I c-c-can re-re-read, can't I?" He shot back defensively.

"Sure."

Jack stopped at the corner to cross the street, knowing better to cross when he wanted to. He'd done that before, against the light, and almost been run down. He had to put his arm out to stop Rat from doing the same thing.

"Watch it!"

Rat stumbled backwards but he didn't take his eyes off the paper. Jack scoffed and grabbed at it.

"Give me that damn paper!"

"N-no! Jack…! Wait, I saw something! At the bottom of the article."

"What? Look, the light's gonna change. If it's about that woman, I'm not interested."

"No, it-it-it's not. L-look."

Jack unfolded the paper and let Rat skim the article. He pointed when he found it.

"Here. H-here it is. 'A-among the other s-sponsors of the night, the owner and publisher of this paper, Britt Reid, took the responsibility of two children. A brother and sister named John and Mary'-."

The color drained in the Jack's face and he snatched the paper to read for himself.

"…'Took the responsibility of two children. A brother and sister named John and Mary…_Waters.'" _The paper folded involuntarily in his hands. Waters.

"It's not them." He shoved the paper into Rat's chest. He caught it and had to run across the crosswalk to catch up to Jack.

"But you didn't read the rest!"

Jack stopped suddenly on the opposite sidewalk and spun around. Dirty Rat pulled up short. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down nervously.

"What do you mean, 'I didn't read the rest.'? Their last names weren't Waters. It was Clarkson."

"B-but that d-don't matter! Jack, the-the article g-goes on to say tha-that the boy and girl were new to the orphanage and that the-the boy had been b-b-beaten!"

Jack snarled and tore the paper from his hands. He crumpled it up and tossed it in the gutter. He advanced on Rat and tugged him closer by the collar.

"_Drop it!"_

He shoved the man away from him and turned on his heel. Dirty Rat swallowed and ran a hand over his face. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered with Jack Rickert . But then again, who would pay for his coffee and whiskey?

"J-Jack! Wait up!"

* * *

><p>John woke with a start. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the sleep. He sat up quickly, the pillow falling off his head to the floor. This sure as heck wasn't the orphanage! The bed was too comfy, the sheets too soft. The room too well decorated, too well kept. He was in somebody's home, in their bedroom. He suddenly remembered his sister and a flash of panic gripped his chest. He looked beside him and saw her small form curled up, asleep. The panic released him.<p>

Well then. What goes on here? …Oh yeah. He ran his hand through his hair; rubbed his eyes and yawned. Last night, the Charity Gala. All the rich people. The sponsoring. Then that dope, what's his name? Britt Reid.

The guy tried to grab his sister's hand. Bad move. He deserved the shove he got. Everybody converging, glaring at him. John's eyes narrowed. But then that Reid guy surprised him. Not only did he keep his mouth shut and not blow him in…he sponsored them. Him and sister. Crazy. What was his angle, huh? Couldn't figure it out….

His nose caught a mouthwatering whiff. Bacon. Eggs. P_ancakes! _His stomach growled at him to get up and moving. He quietly hopped out a bed, almost stumbling on the over-sized man's shirt he must have been given it to sleep in.

He walked toward the door and pushed it open. It was a wide open apartment that became study/living room with a kitchen and bathroom across from him. He saw he and his sister had a guest bedroom, while the actual bedroom was next door. John padded softly across to the kitchen and peeked in. A smaller man, dressed in a white and black server's outfit, had his back to him at the stove.

His stomach growled again. He grimaced and held his abdomen, as if to quiet it. The man heard and glanced to the doorway.

"Good morning."

John took a step forward. He remembered that guy. Kind of. Mostly his accent. Asian.

"Erm…hi. Thanks."

He walked in, cautious. Hesitant to let his guard down in this strange environment, with this Asian guy who he could only guess was like a servant or housekeeper. However…the guy did seem nice, he wasn't about to attack him, belittle him. In fact, this man was already back to cooking, completely ignoring him.

John found there was a small dining area in the kitchen and took up a chair. He sat perched on his knees, elbows resting on the table.

"Um…" he started. "What's…your name again?"

"Kato."

"Oh. I'm…I'm John."

"I remember. You didn't say much last night but I did get your names."

John nodded, looking around, not in awe but…well, okay, in awe. From where he was from, they never had a home like this, let alone a kitchen so well stocked and so well-kept.

"Um…are you…like the housekeeper or something?"

He heard Kato chuckle. "Or something. Mr. Britt is usually very busy at the paper. He doesn't have time to worry about how he lives. I kind of take care of the place for him, make sure he doesn't forget about himself."

"So…are you friends?"

"Yeah. I'd say we are friends."

Kato turned with a plate full of breakfast and brought it to the table. He set it down in front of John."

"Oh…."

"I thought you were hungry?"

"Oh, I am but…. What about Mr. Reid?"

Kato smiled. "Mr. Britt doesn't usually get up until around eleven. I made this for you."

"How'd you know I'd be getting up?"

The man shrugged and went back to the stove to clean.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"I already did."

John speared several sausages with his fork and shoved them in his mouth. Kato brought him a glass of orange juice. He half-downed it in one gulp. The man stepped back, eying him with veiled sympathy. John's temper flared suddenly, resenting it. Nobody should feel bad for him! He didn't need it!

He chewed slower and leveled a glare so the guy would look away. When he finally did to put the juice back in the refrigerator, John went back to concentrating on eating.

"Where are you from? I mean…your accent and all that…."

"I'm Chinese."

"Oh." He wanted to ask him about his family. If John couldn't even tell him about his own family then what was the point?

"How'd you…you come to work for Mr. Reid?"

"Long story."

Okay. The guy could play it like that. He wasn't really interested anyway.

"Well, um. What's this Reid like, anyway?"

Kato looked to him, clearly surprised. He'd never heard a boy so young, sound so old and jaded. Looking for angles and bad deals where there weren't any. Like a burned adult.

"He's a very honorable man; a good man. He only wants to help where he can."

Mmmm, straight enough answer. Of course, this Kato would say anything for his boss. Simply because his living depended on it!

"So, what he's doing for me and Mary isn't some run-around bit? It's for real?"

Kato nodded his head. "No run-around."

John took another bite of his pancake, drowning it in more syrup. Syrup…real maple syrup! He hadn't had it in ages. Come to think of it, he hadn't had orange juice or pancakes or…a breakfast like _this_… in ages. He felt a tendril of guilt whip the back of his mind. He shouldn't be asking if this Reid guy meant to do him wrong in the end. He should be just plain grateful.

From the door way, they both heard a large yawn and somebody cracking some body part to wake up. John watched Britt Reid tromp in, wearing blue pajama shirt and pants. Kato's eyebrows arched, bemused.

"You're up early. It's only….", he checked the time on the wall clock. " Nine."

"Oh, I thought it was later. I mean, it smelled so good out here…!"

He sat next to John at the table, smiling.

"Morning, John. Sleep alright?"

"…Guess so."

"Sorry about the night shirt. By the time we got home, you and Mary were about ready to collapse so we just made do. We'll fix things up a little better tonight, I promise."

John didn't respond, just went back to eating. He failed to see the small shrugs that passed between Kato and Britt. He ate the rest of his breakfast in silence, Britt passing in and out of the kitchen to get his coffee and cereal. When he came back the last time, he was pulling on his dress shirt. John caught the scar in a passing glance.

"How'd you get that?"

Britt stopped shrugging on the shirt and looked at him, puzzled. "Get what?"

"That scar. On your left shoulder. How did you get it?"

His arms lowered and the shirt settled into place. His fingers were busy buttoning. "Oh. That."

"Yeah."

Britt saw Kato looking at him, waiting to see how he'd explain it. He couldn't tell him it was left over from being shot while as the Green Hornet.

"It's, um, a birthmark. I've always had it."

"A birthmark?"

"Yeah."

John hopped off his chair and walked past Britt, back to his room. Britt turned to see him shut the door. He looked back to Kato, who was refilling Britt's coffee cup.

"Well, what else could I tell him? I was shot running out of a jewelry shop as the Green Hornet?"

"Why not? It's the truth. And he wouldn't believe you anyway. Besides, it's a lot better than just saying it's a 'birthmark'." He winced. "A birthmark...no wonder he walked out..."

Kato then handed him his cup and went out into the living room to retrieve a pair Britt's dress shoes. Britt followed him out and went to his room to grab a tie.

"Did you try talking to him?"

Kato nodded, standing back with his arms folded thoughtfully across his chest.

"Yes. Quite a boy. Too old for his years. Everything, to him, has to have an angle to it. He can't understand you did what you did just to help him. He wanted to know what I thought of you, among other things."

"Oh? And what did you tell him?"

"That you were a good man."

Britt smiled and finished doing his tie. "Thanks, Kato."

The door opened and John reappeared. This time, fully dressed and with his sister in tow. They both wore their old Orphanage uniforms.

Britt looked to Mary, hoping to see a smile without a thumb in the way. He was disappointed. The thumb remained, as did the blank stare. Britt approached slowly to kneel. His look told John he wouldn't try to reach for her.

"Hello, Mary. Did you sleep well?"

There was no sign of recognition or forthcoming response. John scowled and pulled her to his side so their arms were touching.

"Look, she's not going to talk, okay? And she doesn't have to, either! So leave her alone. And don't ask if she wants breakfast." His eyes flickered to Kato. "She doesn't eat breakfast, never has."

Britt sat back on his hunches. It was going to be a grand day….

"I see. Well, we should be going."

Britt straightened and put on his suit coat. He drained the rest of his coffee and grabbed his suitcase.

"We are we going?" John asked, suspicious.

"The Daily Sentinel. Ever wonder how a newspaper is run?"

"Not really."

Britt smirked. "Still, I think you'll find it interesting. Besides, people will want to meet you."

Kato got the door for them. Britt waved to him as they left. The valet closed it behind them; shaking his head and silently wishing the man all the luck for the day.

* * *

><p>Mike Axford handed her the morning paper, as if she hadn't already seen it. All the girls were ogling it. Why? Because <em>She <em>was on the cover. Britt Reid's Ice Queen come back to rule her kingdom.

If they expected her to break down right there, it wasn't going to happen. Honestly, she didn't know what they had expected. Sure, it was rumored she carried a blazing torch for her boss but…they didn't need to know that was the truth, did they? She wasn't about to prove it for them.

"Well, Casey?"

Lenore "Casey" Case, Britt Reid's secretary and confidante, looked up from the article.

"Pretty picture, Mike."

"Oh, well. The picture practically took itself. I mean, with such a pretty lady!"

Axford was going to continue his gush. Then he saw Casey put the paper down. He stopped.

"What's the matter, Casey? You don't look well."

Casey stood and stepped around her desk. The day before, after Britt Reid had left the office for the day, she did too. Early. Went to her favorite shop and treated herself to three new outfits.

Why? Because deep within her, a well of burning jealousy erupted. She knew it was silly to feel that way. She held the upper hand on all her bosses conquests, with her knowledge of his Green Hornet secret. She knew their relationship was special, no definition could be placed on it. In his way, he cared for her. When she had been in danger for one reason of another, he'd rushed to the rescue, prepared to do what he could to protect her.

In her own way, one she kept to herself, she loved him. Could she ever tell him that? Probably not. She'd be afraid to. No matter what they shared, she couldn't help but feel inadequate when it came to the beauties Britt liked to have hanging off his arms from time to time. Wealthy socialites and heiresses…self-made women.

The least she could, _the bare minimum_, was to look good and grab the attention any attractive woman was due.

"Maybe you should ask Britt for some time off, relax. Take care of yourself."

She smiled and patted Axford's hand. "You're sweet to worry about me. I'm okay, I promise."

He appraised her, maybe trying to figure out if she looked different. He shook his head in defeat. Nope, couldn't figure it out. She thought it was cute in a typical man way for not noticing her outfit.

"You know, Casey…you should have come along with me last night. Having a good time would have done you good, I think."

She laughed out loud, imagining herself at such an event. More than that, imaging seeing Britt with _her_. No. Never. Casey had gone out with Britt as his date for other parties but never for a gala. She wondered what it would be like to be the center of attention. The 'It' girl-Britt Reid's date. It wouldn't be difficult. She enjoyed Britt's company to begin with. It was what came with being his date, his girl...that would tax her. The constant falsity, farces and acting. The other women would always be trying to knock her down a peg, sink their nails into her and tear. She'd fight back but not if it meant wearing herself out over it.

"Oh, Mike! I didn't have anything to wear! Besides, you never asked me."

She gave him a coy look and he blushed. "No, erm. I…I didn't, did I? Well…. I wasn't even going to go, you see."

"Ohhhhh yeeeees. Now I remember. Was that _you_ putting up such a big fuss in Mr. Reid's office yesterday?"

"A big fuss? Well, I…wouldn't exactly say _that! _I mean, after all, I _did_ come through for Britt."

She laughed, gentler this time. " Mike. You're really something."

He waved her off and turned to leave the office. He halted when he caught sight of the newsroom through the windows.

"What the…!"

"What's the matter?"

"…Look!"

She stepped next to him. Britt Reid was strolling toward his office, his hand loosely holding that of a sullen-faced boy. The boy, in turn, held the hand of a small girl, unseeing, unaware of those around her. She sucked contently on her thumb.

"He's here early." Axford finally commented. Casey rolled her eyes at his choice of observation and went out to meet him. When she reached him, Britt was introducing the two to several interested employees. Most were women, oohing and cooing. The boy was clearly disgusted with it all.

Casey couldn't blame him. They _were _putting it on pretty thick. Britt's face lit up when he saw her.

"Hello, Ms. Case."

"Mr. Reid." she tipped her head to him politely. "You're certainly here early."

"So I've been told. It's going to be a busy day. Might as well start bright and early."

He looked down to the children and pointed to Casey. "John, Mary…this is Ms. Case. She's my secretary. Ms. Case, this is John and Mary."

She smiled down at them, hoping they'd smile back. The boy offered her a faint upturning of the lips. His eyes bore into hers, almost disconcertingly so. Mary, however, made no response.

"You're quite the story around here." she said to them. "I'm sure everybody will come to meet you throughout the day. We're certainly glad to have you."

"Thank you, Ms. Case." the boy said quietly.

"Call me Casey. All my friends do."

"Okay, Casey." The response was in the same quiet, hesitant voice. She smiled to Britt.

"Well, that was easy."

"Shall we see my office?" Britt asked.

John shrugged and took his sister with him as they went.

* * *

><p>She was so pretty. Pretty like his mother had been. The golden blonde-red hair shone even in the pale lights. Her fingers were slim and long, nails painted a light pink. He bet they were gentle too…never raised to hurt or slap. Just like his mother. Her eyes laughed when she laughed. Genuine kindness in her smile and voice.<p>

Just like his mother. He suddenly felt like crying; like running to a far corner to curl up and die in. His mother had been so pretty, so kind. She never meant any harm. She only wanted love. She gave so much to him and Mary. She only wanted some in return.

Oh, how he missed her! He found his hand tightening on Britt's reflexively. It was a big hand, gentle too. But it wasn't his mothers. He loosened his grip. They could never know what was in him, or his sister. It was his to carry, not theirs. They'd never understand what it was like to know your mother died for you…and you couldn't do a damn thing about it.

* * *

><p>Casey stayed with them in her office while Britt went to his to go over papers left for him She tried talking to John, getting a mumbled sentence here and there. One word answers other times. Even a full-fledged smile when she told a joke he hadn't heard before. Mary was still untouchable.<p>

"Would you like to look around?" she finally offered. "It might not look like much up here, but once you get to the lower floors…it's pretty impressive."

John bit his lip and looked to Mary. It wouldn't matter if they walked around a little more. Besides…it was Casey asking. Already he felt he would do anything for her.

Just like he tried to do for his mother.

"Okay." He said, nodding. "I guess we could."

She smiled. "Good. Let me just tell Mr. Reid, first."

She suddenly did the one thing John would have fought tooth and nail against if it were anybody else. She touched Mary. Not only that…_she picked her up. _John's hand slipped out of his sister's as she was lifted. He watched mildly, not making a single move to stop it.

Right then, it wasn't Casey standing there, holding Mary. It was his mother. So beautiful, dressed so prettily. A smile on her lips as she brushed a stray hair off the child's forehead. She looked to John and held out her other hand to him. He took it readily. And dipped his head to hide the growing tears. They were wiped away discreetly by his sleeve.

She had to let go to open Britt's office door. When he looked up and saw Casey holding Mary and John standing next to her, completely docile, he stood quickly. His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide enough for Casey to take notice and giggle.

"What's the matter, Mr. Reid?" She teased gently. "You looked surprised. They're very easy to get along with. I think we're friends." She smiled down at John. "What do you think? Friends?"

He nodded.

Britt closed his mouth and swallowed. His eyes blinked rapidly as he relaxed and regained composure.

"It's…it's just that I've been trying to get near Mary since I first saw her. I haven't been able to. John would...rather I didn't."

"Woman's touch, I guess."

"I guess."

"Anyway, I was just going to take them for a little tour. If that's okay with you?"

He motioned out toward the city room. "Of course. I meant to do it myself later. I'd appreciate it."

"Good. We'll be back."

They disappeared back to her office and then out beyond. Britt sat down in his chair. He shook his head and pulled himself closer to the desk. John would push him to the ground rather than let him touch Mary. Yet, he talks with Casey for a little less than an hour and allows her to not only touch Mary, but _carry _her around. He couldn't understand it.

…And that was a new outfit Casey wore, wasn't it? He liked it.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

At the Daily Sentinel's curbside, a long white convertible pulled up. Its uniformed driver got out and went around the back to open the door for the passengers. Two women and a small girl were in the back, but only one got out. Crystal Monahan's long legs were the first thing any man would notice. As she stepped out, several such passersby kept their eyes glued as they walked on.

Dressed in a flowing, yet form-fitting white sundress, she commanded attention. Her wide-brimmed, cream-colored hat with a black ribbon wrapped around its top, over-sized sunglasses and handbag and black pumps had been carefully selected. The latest in fashion. She motioned for her fellow passengers to stay put and went through the wide doors of the Sentinel.

Those in the lobby immediately turned to look upon the new visitor. She strode confidently, head held high, toward the elevators. Several people recognized her and nodded or muttered their greetings. She returned in kind.

Once aboard, the other riders made room for her. Nodding politely, they backed away and she heard them murmuring. The men about whatever men mutter when in the proximity of a pretty lady and the women gossiping up a storm. She ignored them. When the elevator pinged its destination, her floor, she didn't look back as the rest disembarked. The city room was buzzing as they prepared for the evening edition even though it was even noon yet.

It quieted as she walked toward Britt Reid's office. When she entered the outer office area of his secretary, Crystal heard the buzz renew itself. Naturally. She stopped to look around. The secretary wasn't in, but she saw a purse hanging on the hat and coat rack beside the desk. It was a neat and tidy area. The typewriter sat, waiting. Paper was primed and ready.

She dragged her finger across the desk top. Spotless. Through the glass to the other office, she saw Britt deep in conversation with Mike Axford. Well, considering how man times he had busted in on her and Britt the night before, she could afford to do it once herself.

Knocking first, she opened the door swiftly, catching the last of their conversation.

"…if it can help them, I'll do it."

Britt's eyes went over Axford's back and widened. He stood and went around his desk.

"Crystal! What are you doing here?"

She took his hands and held them tightly, playfully pulling his arms apart.

"Surprise!" she exclaimed brightly. "I called your apartment but Kato told me you'd already left for the day. Since when did you get to the office by nine? Anyway, I told him I'd meet you here and…here I am!"

"That's odd. He didn't call to tell me."

" I know. I told him not to. I wanted it to be a surprise!"

"Well, it was."

Axford cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.

"Oh, Mike!" She went to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "It's so good to see you again."

"Erm. Thank you, Ma'am. I'll be leaving now."

She patted him lovingly on the cheek and he left in a hurry. They shared a laugh for him.

"What a dear old soul."

"I wouldn't know what to do without him."

"Well, today, that's exactly what you are going to do. Be without him or anybody else here!"

"What do you mean?"

Crystal led him back to his desk. He leaned against the front of it and let her take a seat in one of the guest chairs.

"I want to take you and the children out for the day. Shopping, lunch…whatever else you want to do. Oh, Britt-you need to have some fun once in a while! Stuck up here, in this stuffy old office for hours on end…."

He raised an eyebrow. His office wasn't exactly stuffy and nobody could ever accuse him of not having a good time. When he could, he'd go out and let loose. In the strictest sense of the term 'loose', however. When he was a teenager and college kid, it wasn't always so. But that was before his father's demise, before he had to take the reins at the paper and of course, before the Green Hornet. One could say he grew up quite suddenly.

"Crystal, I want to thank you for your…concern?…about me but, I've got a lot of work to do today and-"

She cut him off with a dismissive wave. "I won't hear it!" She had that pout of hers going now. No one could ever really say no to her. Quite honestly, Britt was sure no one ever had. She stood and went to him, her hand gently resting on his chest as she gazed up at him.

"Last night was a night I won't forget." she began softly. "For a short, but sweet, time…I had you all to myself. You don't know how much that meant. I…didn't quite get that quiet evening home with you afterwards so…." she shrugged daintily, a certain spark in her eye as she leaned in to kiss him.

From out in Casey's office, Britt heard loud voices approaching his door. He pulled away from Crystal at the last second. Casey came in without knocking, preoccupied with talking to John and still carrying Mary. John noticed Crystal first and his mouth clamped firmly shut. Eyes narrowed suspiciously and he took a more resolute stance next to Casey.

Casey noticed John's sudden change and she too, stopped in her tracks when she saw them. She realized she was staring quite dumbly at the woman and an awkward silence was building.

"O-oh, excuse me, Mr. Reid. I'm sorry. I didn't realize…."

Crystal's face lit up as she recognized the voice and reach out to Casey, arms wide open.

"Lenore, darling! Ohhh, it's so good to see you again."

Casey hastily put Mary down to greet Crystal's light embrace and friendly peck on the cheek.

"Hello, Crystal. It's been a long time."

"Yes, too long. You know, my dear, you haven't changed a _bit! _When I came through your office and saw you weren't there, I actually thought that perhaps you no longer worked for Britt. And what a _pity_ that would be!"

Casey inwardly cringed at her sickly sweet voice. Crystal had been one of Britt's more serious college flames. She was cool and serene, his Ice Queen. Except for a jealousy streak so hot it burned. Casey had felt it long ago. They were just kids, then. Young adults in name but not spirit. Catty children fighting over things and people they thought of as theirs and no one else's.

Casey learned her lesson then: her own torch for Britt burned too bright . Bright enough for Crystal to see and burn her in return. Thankfully, Britt had been too preoccupied to notice then. So she learned to dim it for herself only. It was her torch to carry. Lately, thought, she noticed it was becoming harder to control. Her return only aggravated it.

Another thing hadn't changed: her insistence on calling Casey by her given name. Casey didn't _dis_like 'Lenore'. She just felt it was too old, and stuck up for her. It had been her Grandmother's name and had, of course, fit her well. Everyone who knew Casey had immediately set about calling her by her nickname once they'd heard it.

But not Crystal. Whether it was a pointed jab at the other woman or not, she refused to call Casey by any other name. She said it sounded so sophisticated, so _French. _And all Casey could to was grin and bear it.

"No, I'm still here."

Crystal laughed and patted her hand. "And we're so glad of it, too. Right, Britt?"

"Of course."

Crystal moved to John and Mary. When she smiled down at them, John only glared back.

"These two dears are in desperate need of new clothing and good food. How about it, John? Would you and your sister like to go shopping and have lunch with me?"

John shot a look up at Casey. Then one to Britt.

"Just as long as Mr. Reid comes too."

That surprised Britt. Yet it was music to his ears. A dent in little John's armor? A start at least.

"Of course he's coming. I've brought Bridgett along with me as well. You three will have a splendid time together!"

"…Okay. I guess we can go."

"Good!"

She spun around to Britt. "Majority rules, Britt."

Britt hesitated then nodded. "Majority rules. Just give me a few moments, Crystal. I've got to take care of some last minute things. Then I'll go. Ms. Case?

"Yes, Mr. Reid?"

"Get Axford for me, will you? And make sure he has his camera with him."

Casey nodded and left the office. Moments later, Axford appeared alone. Casey had stayed out in her office, fiddling around at her desk. John looked out the window to her, while Crystal tried to engage him in conversation. He, of course, ignored her. The rich lady was annoying, loud.

Unlike his mother.

He cringed every time she opened her mouth. But with Casey…. He saw her look up and give him a smile. A sad smile, he thought. John returned it, then turned to Crystal, completely hardened against her.

"You weren't talking to me, were you?" He said, cutting her off. Her mouth stopped moving and that happy mask of hers went rigid.

"John, Mary, over here. I'm going to have Mike take a picture of us together."

Britt's call saved him from a tongue lashing he was sure to give and receive. He took his sister's hand and went over to Britt, who was sitting behind his desk again.

"Take a picture of us? Why?"

"We're going to run a story on you two. If not tomorrow, then the next day. I'm going to try to help figure out where you came from. If someone who knows you, sees a picture of you in the paper, maybe they'll call with information.

John felt himself go cold. No. No, he couldn't. Maybe Jack didn't read the Sentinel. Maybe he didn't read the paper anymore. No, of course he did. John could remember the big man screaming at him or his mother every time the paper wasn't waiting for him when he got home. If _he_ saw their pictures…they were as good as dead.

He pulled her closer and began a slow backing away from Britt and Axford.

"I…I don't think that's a good idea."

Britt screwed up his face. "No? I think it is. I'd like to know what happened to you kids. I want to help you. Getting the public involved is the best possible way I know how."

_No you don't. You want to stay as far away from the truth as possible. You may be a dope, but I'd kinda hate to see you dead. _

"Please, Mr. Reid. Can't we do this some other time? Later."

Britt stood and went to him, putting his arm gently around John's shoulders. When the boy didn't object, he let it settle enough to lead him and his sister to the desk.

"C'mon. It's just a quick picture. Don't tell me you're camera shy?"

_No. Just gun-shy._

John wanted to pull away. Britt's hold on him was too strong. He couldn't believe how strong it was…stronger than the Big Jack's even. He shivered. If he never felt Big Jack Rickert's hold him ever again, it would still be too soon.

Britt settled back in his chair, his arm around John's thin shoulders. Mary still sucked her thumb.

"Say cheese." Axford said as he aimed the camera.

* * *

><p>The shopping bags were stacked expertly in the trunk and back seat. John and Bridgett had been at each others throats all day. Mary was oblivious to it all. Britt had learned that Crystal had hired a nanny for her sponsor the very night of the Gala. He'd also seen how starved the red-head was for attention when she leaped from the car and bear-hugged him to the best of her ability.<p>

Now, they were taking up two tables at an outdoor café in the shopping district of the city. Up and down both sides were small but expensive boutiques, shops and cafés. Britt had hardly stepped a foot in this part of town as Britt Reid, but more as the Green Hornet. It was a proverbial gold mine for any crook in want of a quick, but juicy steal. The jewelry store he had been shot coming out of was a few streets away.

"You look like you're miles away from here. Is there anything wrong?"

Crystal's voice and touch brought him out of his reverie. Her hand was warm and smooth on his. A quick, reassuring smile on his end was sufficient.

"Of course. It's been a long day already."

"You started work too early, that's why. I always thought you were a noon to five man instead of a nine to five."

He chuckled. "That's me. Today, though, I just wanted to get the paper and _do _something." He looked to the children's table, where the nanny was again trying to separate John and Bridgett.

"I don't know what happened to him or his sister. I know it was traumatic." He looked back to Crystal. "He's like a spurned adult in an innocent child's body. A boy doesn't get like that on his own. It's forced on him by circumstances we couldn't possible understand. Well, maybe one I can." he added softly.

Her hand came down on top of his again and gently squeezed it.

"A knight in shining armor-that's you, you know that? You were always like that, though. You would try to help anyone who asked for it. Even if it meant getting into trouble yourself. That part of you is still there, at least. Not many remain from that young college kid Britt Reid I remember."

He grinned. "Have I really changed that much?"

She shrugged, playing with the hair on the back on his hand. "Not so much that I don't recognize you. But I'll probably need a closer look. Walk with me."

She stood up, holding her hand out to him.

"But what about the children?"

"Patty will watch them. That's what I hired her for."

He looked over to the table to see John staring at him. He half-smiled but John again looked away, almost disgusted. He couldn't pin the boy's actions down at all.

Britt took Crystal's hand and the walked down the avenue, arm in arm.

"Do you think you'll find anything on your two sponsors? I mean, with plastering their pictures everywhere?"

"I hope to."

"It's just that it seems to me that if they were in the Orphanage to begin with, doesn't that mean that there was no one left _to _care about them?"

"Not necessarily. They could be runaways. There's lots of reasons."

Crystal shrugged. "I just think you're making much ado about nothing."

Britt stopped walking and made her stop too.

"What do you mean, I'm making much ado about nothing? These kids aren't 'nothing', Crystal. They're completely alone in this world for one reason or another. It could be a very dangerous reason at that. The Orphanage can only do so much for them before their resources dry up.

"When they're eighteen, if they haven't been adopted by then, they're turned out on the streets to fend for themselves. To get a job with the meager education the State afforded them while they were part of the system. If no one cares to do something about it _now,_ then our future is doomed because these kids are doomed.

"I'm only trying to do my bit. _I _have the money, _I _have the resources that the Orphanage sadly does not. It's the least I can do."

Crystal looked his face over before continuing forward, her arms still linked around Britt's.

"One other thing is still there, then. Your noble sense of justice. I thought it had been torn apart when your father…." She didn't say the rest.

"No, it's still there. Probably stronger now than it ever was."

"I didn't mean to insult it, then. It's just that you…are not like the others. Even now. The people in our social circles, the people we went to school with. It often shocked, but yet was so refreshing. I suppose that's why I fell for you."

She stopped again and went around the front of him. Snaked her arms around his neck and leaned against him.

"So…there's one thing I have to know is still there."

"What's that?"

"This."

Her lips met his and in an instant, fireworks clouded his mind. Sparks of electricity ran up and down his spine. What seemed like an eternity was really only a few moments before they pulled apart and Crystal took a long, steadying breath.

"Is that answer enough for you?" he asked.

She couldn't find her voice so she merely nodded.

"Good. I'm always glad to oblige a lady." he said, grinning. "Come on, we better be going back. I have work to do still at the office."

His arm rested on the small of her back as they walked back. Crystal fit snugly against him, head almost on his shoulder as they went. When John saw them approaching, a scowl rested firmly on his face. He resisted Britt's attempt to ruffle his hair and dodged Crystal's hand when she tried to put in on his head.

The nanny was having trouble with Bridgett, who was clearly getting sick of John's biting remarks every time she tried to talk to him. When she descended into a crying mess because of it on the way back to the car, Britt grabbed John's arm.

"Excuse us, will you?" he asked Crystal brusquely before pulling John off to the side.

"What is with you?" he demanded. "I get the hard guy demeanor. I get it. But I don't get the snide comments and the rude treatment of Crystal or Bridgett. Or me for that matter. So what's wrong? Tell me."

"Nothing." John snapped, his eyes flashing. "Nothing is wrong expect I didn't ask for this. It was you who decided to play hero, not me. I don't do the rich life like you or your girlfriend. I'm just a poor little orphan, remember?"

He pulled his arm free of Britt's grasp and ran back to the car. He shoved his way into a seat, eliciting a harrumph from the nanny. Britt dropped his hand and shoved both into his pockets as he went to the car.

Score one for John. None for Britt.

* * *

><p>Instead of going back to the office, Britt had them dropped off at the apartment instead. He'd work the rest of the day from home. John stomped in with his sister and immediately went to their room and slammed the door shut. Britt, however, lingered outside with Crystal while her driver brought their shopping bags into the house.<p>

"Tonight, my place. I'll cook you dinner." she offered. Britt shook his head.

"No, I think we're going to stay in tonight. John's hardly in the mood for me to leave him here with Kato. I wouldn't want to do that to either of them. Besides," he reached in to tousle Bridgett's hair. Her tears had dried, leaving a sullen expression that brightened considerably under his touch. "I think somebody has dibs on you ahead of me."

Crystal's face fell and she leaned back, her infamous pout coming on.

"I'll take a rain check, how's that?"

"Well…I suppose."

She leaned against the car door and pulled him down to her by his collar. She kissed him again.

"I'm holding you to that-don't keep me waiting too long!"

Britt stepped back from the car as it pulled away. He went back in and shut the door behind him. Kato was waiting.

"Any reason why John refuses to come out of his room? Or let me in to drop off these bags?

Britt shrugged and took off his suit jacket.

"I don't know. He was fine at the office-more than fine. He's taken quite a shine to Casey. Let her pick Mary up and carry her around. I can't even get within an inch of her! Then when Crystal showed up, he completely changed. Hardened right up. The only chink in the armor I saw was when he asked for me to come along on our little shopping/lunch outing."

The phone rang then and Kato answered.

"Britt Reid's residence. Oh yes…tomorrow? At three? Okay. Yes, I will inform him. Thank you for calling. Bye."

"Who was it?"

"The Orphanage. A nurse will be out here tomorrow at three to discuss those two's case."

Britt flopped down on he couch and stretched his legs. "Just in time for the evening edition. Whatever I get from the Orphanage, I'll put in the paper. See what we get."

The door buzzer sounded as Kato went to try the guest bedroom door once more. He answered that instead. Quiet the entire day and now everyone's calling or coming at once….

"Hello, Ms. Case."

Britt brought his head up from the couch back and looked over his shoulder as Casey came in.

"Oh, Casey. What brings you here?"

"I…I thought when you didn't come back to the office, you'd gone home instead. You probably had a long day."

" You could say that."

He stood and she came further into the apartment, sitting near the couch in one of his lounge chairs. From her purse, she took out a folder of photographs.

"I brought the prints from today. See which one you wanted printed."

He took it and shuffled through the bunch. Each the same photograph of him, John and Mary in his office. He smiling, John sulking and Mary sucking her thumb. A fine troupe they made.

"Make sure you tell Mike the article is a go for tomorrow night. The nurse is coming tomorrow to spell out their case for me. Any information I get, I'll put in the article. Within reason, of course."

"Of course. Speaking of which…where are John and Mary?" She asked, looking around. Britt looked up for the photos and smiled.

"You like them, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. They're so sad….so much older than they should be. I guess it's just the…the…"

She wanted to say 'mother's touch', but looking at Britt and thinking that at the same time caused the words to become lost. She never thought of it before. Just liked she only dared to dream of being with him one day.

Having children with Britt. A flush of pink tinged her cheeks.

"Woman's touch?" he finished for her.

"Yes, that."

"Well, you see…we had a clash of personalities today. It seems John doesn't like Crystal while Bridgett adores _him _but _he _can't stand _her_. _So _he continually insults _her _while glaring daggers at _me_ as _I _talk to _Crystal_."

He sighed and shook his head. "Instead of returning to the office, we came back here for the night. First thing John did when we got home was take his sister and himself into their room and slam the door. Kato can't get him to come out or open the door so he can put their new clothes in there with them."

Casey saw the bags bunched up outside the door, waiting for someone to do something with them. She silently applauded John's apparent choice in woman. The boy wasn't stupid or blind. He was also a good judge of character.

"Well, boys will be boys, you know. I'm sure you threw your fair share of tantrums."

Britt looked up, mock hurt on his face. "Me? _Never_! I was a good little boy. I didn't pull _all_ the girls' hair and I think I only got into one or two fights and…."

Casey laughed. "Stop it. I bet you were a real terror!"

Britt stood and went to her. "What about you? Did you terrorize all the boys or were you a good little girl?"

He was suddenly so close to her. She dropped her eyes. "Oh…you know. Little girls like to have fun."

"…Hi, Casey."

John stood in the doorway of his room, apparently watching them with great interest. He didn't have his sister with him for a change.

"Hello, John! I heard you had a busy day."

He dropped his chin, acting very much little a shy, normal ten year old boy as he went to her. Another miracle.

"Yeah. Yeah, we did."

"New clothes too?"

"Mmmhmm."

"I'd like to see them. Is that okay?"

"I dunno. If you want to. Mary's asleep in the bedroom right now. She'll get up for dinner. Maybe…maybe if you stayed for dinner, I could show you after?"

Casey looked back to Britt. "How about it? Can I?"

"Who am I to say no?"

* * *

><p>John slid under the covers. Tonight he was fully able to enjoy the silky warmth of the sheets. This time with the added bonus of <em>real cotton pajamas! <em>Not threadbare rags. He plumped his pillow and plopped against it.

He had to hand it to this Reid guy, though. He knew how to live. He had heard about this life…his mother would tell him bedtime stories. Working as a counter girl in several department stores had opened her eyes to the other half. She opened his…but every time she talked about it, this bitter edge would be in her voice towards the end.

She always thought she could have done something if she had been given a chance. She had quit her last department store job when Big Jack came along. Because the guy fed her a line a mile long. Business ventures up the ying-yang. People who knew people who knew people. A credible hook on something big.

The guy was a dockworker. Fish guts and sea salt in his veins. A bum. An ass. A murderer.

If his mother had only gotten a chance. The kind Casey had. Secretary to a nice big shot who cared. Try as he might, the guy's angle still wasn't coming to him. So he was nice. Dimwitted for sticking around that rich dame but well-meaning. Hated to admit it, but John was kind of getting soft on him. Ah well.

Somebody knocked softly on the bedroom door.

"John? Are you asleep?"

"No. No, come in."

The dark room was briefly illuminated from the outside light as Britt stepped in. John shot a look to Mary, but the girl was fast asleep. The tip of her thumb was still in her mouth. Britt had his dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and the sleeves rolled up.

"Hey."

"Hi." Britt sat on John's side of the bed. "Tired?"

John shrugged and drew his knees to his chin. "I dunno. I'll sleep eventually. Just tryin' to relax still."

"Nervous about something?"

John shrugged again. Britt dropped it and picked up a new thread.

"You surprised me today."

John brought his head up. "What? That I gave your girlfriend the brush? Meh. Not hard. She gets things once they're spelled out."

Britt wasn't sure to be angry or amused at that comment so he chose to disregard it.

"I was talking about you and Ms. Case. You like her, huh?"

"M'yeah, I guess."

"You must…you let her hold Mary. That's something, right?"

"She's nice, that's all. And…and…"

Britt leaned toward him. "And what?"

"…She reminds me of somebody."

"Oh? Who, if you don't mind me asking?"

His eyes flashed then. "I do mind, actually." He tucked his knees farther under his chin and encircled his arms around them. "Who was that portrait of in your office?"

"My father. Dan Reid. I didn't think you'd notice."

John rubbed his chin with his knuckles. "While what's-her-face and Casey were facing off today…"

"John, her name is Crystal Monahan."

"Whatever. I saw it then. I just wanted to know who it was." He hazard a look to Britt. "He looks like an okay guy. Um…can…can I meet him?"

Britt chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "I wish you could. He'd probably think you were okay, too. But you can't, sadly."

"…Why?"

Britt's hand fell away from his shoulder and back into his lap. His strong, thick arms folded themselves across his chest.

"He's dead."

His grip on his knees loosened. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay. My dad was pretty remarkable. He was born at the turn of the century. Served in the Great War. When he got out and came back…he saw the country had carried on while he'd been stuck overseas. It was like that for all returning soldiers. He saw how tough it was going to be to fit it again. No one was going to help him, so he'd have to help himself.

"Got some fellow veterans together and scraped up enough money to start a small paper out of his apartment. They called it The Sentinel because they wanted to be a kind of guardian, a protector watching out for guys like him. The downtrodden, those who were on their own."

Britt noticed himself slipping into talking to John like he was an adult. It seemed so natural.

"He always gave interested soldiers the first call for reporting jobs. And he always printed the truth, no matter how hard it was to tell. He wasn't about to give anybody the runaround when he'd been given it himself. He was among those who wondered why American men were fighting a European war but was never able to get a straight answer.

"By the time the Depression hit, the Sentinel was now the Daily Sentinel and having a rough time because of the fact it told only the truth. People didn't want to hear how bad it was but my father refused to change or go back on his ideals. Others appreciated this and stayed with it. He came out of it older and wiser. Met my mother during this time. After I was born, she wanted him to slow down. Let the paper run itself. He wouldn't, not with the war and our own problems here."

Britt stopped talking then. He cursed himself for letting the past get the best of him. What done was done. It shouldn't hurt the same as it did when it first happened. Oh, but it did hurt. Like a red-hot dagger stuck right through his heart. A bullet had given him the taste of such burning pain but this…this hurt on all levels.

"My father wasn't around as much as he should have been. He knew it…we all did. I think if he had been around more I…wouldn't have been so wild. I was bad, John. A rich kid whose father didn't seemed to care and a mother who…tried her best. I thought the world owed me everything. So I rallied against it. I went to college because that's what was done but…I partied harder than I studied. I chased all the girls, played all the sports. When I got out, I was no more refined than I was when I left.

"I was ready to go on like that forever. No responsibility, no job, just fun."

Britt dropped his chin and shook his head ruefully. John leaned forward, intent on hearing the rest. Because there had to be more.

"Something must have happened for your dad to be gone and the Sentinel yours. What was it?"

Britt lifted his head and his shoulders squared themselves. His eyes met John's in the darkness. The boy saw the glint in them. Sad, but bitter. Hard but trying to soften. Forgiveness was still a soured thought. He knew this must be the same look he carried. Living embodiment was right there for him to see. He suddenly realized why Britt had helped him.

He did understand.

"You run a paper built on truth and justice and you're going to make enemies out of those who believe in the opposite. I have and so did my father. Times were different for him, though. The gangsters and racketeers, the enemy agents. It was a lot easier for them to operate than it is now. Their reach was farther and more encompassing. The police fought back of course, but not like today's. My father wanted to stop the crime, stop the corruption. He couldn't.

Britt's voice took a sharp edge. As sharp as the glint in his eye.

"My father was framed, John. By a racketeer named Glen Connors. He claimed he had proof my father had aided and abetted the very criminals he'd crusaded against. Threw his entire weight into the case."

He shook his head. "I never saw my father cry until the day they sentenced him to prison. He didn't make it. His heart gave out the next day. He died a broken man. And suddenly the Sentinel was mine. The family too. My mother died the next year. Another victim. I had no forgiveness then. I'm learning it still. Responsibility too. The Sentinel has been good to me, it was good to my father. I can't blame it for causing his downfall. I won't."

John rubbed his chin against his knee, considering the story and why he had told it.

"What happened to Connors? Did they get him?"

Britt gave a little smile. "You could say that. He's where he belongs."

"Good. At least there's a kinda happy ending to it."

Britt unfolded his arms and stood. "Kind of. I hope you understand now…that I'm only trying to help. I saw in you what others saw in me when my father died. I want a happy ending for you, too."

John looked up at him, seeing the man differently. He unfolded himself and stretched his legs out.

"So…truce?"

Britt's hand appeared. Waiting, hopeful. John looked down at it, remembered to just the night before when he wouldn't even dream of taking this stranger's hand in friendship. He had no reason to believe in it. Especially no reason to believe in Britt. Men like him don't know his kind of life and its struggles. At least they shouldn't.

But this one did.

John shook his hand. "I'll try."

"That's all I can ask for, then."

He went around to Mary's side and whispered good night to her. His hand barely brushed her forehead. He wasn't sure if John had given him enough license with the truce so he didn't push it."

Britt went to the door and opened it. The outside light streamed in once more. He looked back to John.

"I had a great-uncle named John. John Reid. Remind me to tell you stories about him some time."

"Okay."

"Good night."

John stretched out under the covers, his arms folded under his head.

"'Night..."

The door shut softly.

"…Britt."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I wish to extend my deepest gratitude upon those who**** have, so far, made this story their favorite, a tale to be watched, or me their author of choice. It is an honor to know you trust me with this fandom and its beloved characters. I've luckily had the same success with the Knight Rider fandom but I never expected a repeat performance. You are to thank for that. Alas, I also offer my apologies for a rather small offering this time around. It is a branching of sorts while I deal with changing real life issues. ~EV**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Five<em>

The nightmare returned that night. After fighting through it his first week at the Orphanage. After finding some peace with the entire situation, it came back. Stronger, more vivid, more terrifying and so gut-wrenchingly painful. He felt every punch, every slap as if it were real and happening right then and there. The gunshot tore through his mind like it did his mother's body. The moment she hit the floor and the gun turned on him, he woke to find his sweat-drenched body entangled in the sheets.

John kicked himself free and half-fell from the bed. He landed on his knees with a thud. He stopped to listen for anyone approaching the door. Heard nothing outside. Pulling himself up, John peeked over the bed to his sister.

Mary was uncovered yet unaware. He carefully pulled the covers up over her and padded softly toward the door. Opening it quietly, he peered out to find the apartment still in early morning darkness. He blinked for his eyes to adjust before going back into the bedroom to check the time. Grabbing the alarm clock, he saw it read four in the morning. Placing it back on the bedside stand, he sat on his side of the bed, thinking.

He was awake now. No use trying to get back to sleep. Britt and Kato, where ever he was, weren't about to get up and find him. John scratched the top of his head and yawned. He went to the closet and grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. That Crystal dame had put up a fuss when he came back with the outfit yesterday. She had a crazy notion all little boys needed suits and dress shoes, or at least a dress shirt and dress pants to get through their days. He never saw any problems with just plain old jeans and t-shirts.

Thankfully Britt had stepped in and she'd relented. John stopped pulling on his socks to smile to himself. Britt wasn't a bad guy. Both knew where the other was coming from now. This truce business might just last the rest of the week-_if _Crystal didn't butt in. Like he knew she probably would.

Leaving his room, he wondered if he should eat. He wasn't particularly hungry. Images from the nightmare were rolling around his head still, making his stomach roll too. He instead went to the study and looked over Britt's desk. It was neat, orderly. Ran his hand over the smooth finish. Then walked slowly around it to sit in big office chair. Hmmm, not bad. Not bad at all! He grinned sloppily to himself and leaned back completely, putting his feet up on the desk.

The novelty wore off quickly and he put his feet back where they belonged to swing around to the bookcases. His eyes went over the titles. Most were related the newspaper business. He saw some on the art of writing, history and philosophy. He rolled to the farthest bookcase.

There was Dickens and Twain. Emerson. Stuff he would never read. Rolling to the third bookcase, he found titles he'd be more interested in. John pulled the first one out.

It was older, published in 1936. The spine was brittle, cracking when he opened it. The pages were yellowed , the cover worn. Written by a man named Gaylord Du Bois, it was simply entitled _The Lone Ranger. _

John shrugged. Why not? He had heard of him. A fictional character made up to entertain people about the wild, wild west. Might make for a good read at that. And it would be the first real book he'd had in his hands since long before his mother was killed. They hadn't been able to afford the basic necessities, let alone luxuries. His mother had stopped talking him to the library when Mary was just a baby.

He rolled to the desk and turned on the desk lamp. Propping his feet up once more, he gently opened the book and began reading.

* * *

><p>Kato prided himself on his controlled way of living. His body was a finely tuned instrument. He took care of it so <em>it<em> would take care of _him_. He slept well but not long at night. Usually up at the crack of dawn, well-rested and ready for the day. Being constantly well-rested helped him during the nights when there was no sleep; while he and Britt were out in the Black Beauty.

So, when he woke this morning and came out into the apartment, he was completely surprised to see a light already on. He moved closer to see John dressed and sitting at Britt's desk with his nose buried in a book.

Amused, he stepped forward to get the boy's attention. Then stopped when the full implications of what John had been doing and how long he had been doing it hit. Behind the study's fireplace was the lift system used to get to the Black Beauty's hiding place. The District Attorney, Frank Scanlon, often used it when Britt needed to talk. To replace the fireplace with the lift, three fake books were pulled down from their shelves on the bookcases.

How close John was to the first key Kato couldn't tell, but he couldn't allow him to get any closer.

"Hello, John."

The boy started, nearly losing his grip on the book.

"O-oh. Kato. You scared me."

Kato went to the him and crouched down beside the desk.

"How long have you been out here?"

John put the book open on the desk, pages-side up. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. "I dunno. I think it was…four in the morning when I got up. I, uh, couldn't sleep very well."

Kato hazard a look to the bookcases. And swallowed in relief. John wasn't anywhere near the first key.

"So you decided to come out here and read?"

John dipped his head, averting his eyes. "Erm, well, I didn't know what else to do. It's…it's okay, isn't it?"

Kato smiled. "Of course." _Just as long as you don't reach for the wrong book. "_Do you like to read?"

John shrugged. "I guess. I used to read a lot more."

Kato looked to the small pile of books on the desk. The titles had one thing in common: their main character.

"The Lone Ranger?"

Instead of his usual distant self, John brightened.

"It's actually pretty cool. Wear a mask, ride a fast horse and save the day. Oh, and not to mention having a sidekick. That's the best part: you'll have a friend. It's kinda like you and Britt. …I mean," he quickly added. "You're not his sidekick or anything but…you're his friend. He'll never be alone, never _not_ have somebody."

Kato could hear the sadness creeping into the boy's voice. For a child so inexplicably alone, a story about a man and his friend destined to roam together and fight along side each other must have seemed liked perfection. If only he knew how close something like that was to him.

"And you know what's really cool about it?"

"What?"

John looked taken aback at the fact Kato didn't know. " You don't know? Britt's great-uncle was John Reid." He pointed to the cover picture of the Lone Ranger riding his horse, Silver, hard across the prairie to save the day.

"John Reid was the Lone Ranger's real name."

Kato straightened and shrugged. "I've heard a few stories here and there. Mr. Britt never got hung up on it. Just family stories for future generations. I'm sure if you asked him, he'd tell you the ones he knows."

John hopped off the chair to follow Kato to the kitchen. "He said something about that last night, but I didn't know who John Reid really was then. When I got up this morning and came out here…the Lone Ranger books were the only ones that looked interesting. I guess I can ask him to fill out the stories in those books. I'd like to know more."

He leaned against the counter across from Kato as he pulled stuff out of cupboards. John nudged the floor with his toe, his eyes downward. "My…my family didn't have anybody cool or…heroic like that back then."

Kato stopped what he was doing and glanced back at John. "Sometimes people don't like to dwell on the past. They'd rather get on with their lives. What happened, happened and there's no use rehashing it."

"I can understand that."

Kato wondered if he should press the issue, using the opening John created to ask about the boy's family. But John continued on.

"My mom always said something like that when I'd be holding a grudge against somebody. Like a kid at school or the neighborhood. I…I tend to do that. Somebody insults me or says something against me, I let it chew me up on the inside. I can't help it. I got into plenty of fights, believe me."

Kato nodded, setting out to make pancakes for the child. He seemed to have liked them the last time.

"Then your mother was very smart. Peace within yourself will translate to peace around you and with others."

He unconsciously found himself quoting from past masters he'd learned his art from. It was a second nature to believe while gung fu could be used to fight and defend, it was also a way of focusing the mind, body and spirit. He was centered and balanced being because of it.

Not only that, the child had finally cracked an inch. He had had a mother he could remember.

The boy's face clouded. "No…she wasn't that smart. If she had been, things would be very different."

Kato raised an eyebrow. " How come you never mentioned her before?"

John looked away, conflicting emotions playing across his face. He could tell Kato, couldn't he? He could trust him. But he couldn't trust Big Jack. He wouldn't have anymore blood spilled over them. Scenes from the nightmare tumbled forward in his mind. The gunshot. The fall. The blood.

"She's gone," he said softly. "It doesn't matter anymore. Like you said, Kato. What happened has happened. No use rehashing it."

* * *

><p>"He has a mother. Or had."<p>

Britt swallowed his coffee with a cough. "…You found that out _how?"_

Kato grinned and peeked out the kitchen door to see John trying to involve his sister in reading. Lone Ranger books were spread out across the couch. Others were mixed in.

"I was just talking to him."

"And…what? He just happens to mention that? A key piece of information the Orphanage probably doesn't even know?"

"Yes."

Britt tossed his morning edition on the table and set his cup down. "I'm impressed. I think he's opened up to you more than he has to me."

"Give yourself some credit. He respects you. Very much so. He'll worship you now that he knows you're the great-nephew of his new favorite hero."

Britt grinned. "Would you believe I considered that when I mentioned John Reid last night? All boys like to believe in some sort of hero. I _have _to have his complete trust."

"I think you have it now. Just think of how he'd react if he knew you were the Green Hornet!"

Britt gave him a look. "I'm not going to push it."

He stood and went to grab his suit coat, checking the time. He'd gotten up early again. Found Kato and John chatting in the kitchen, a pile of pancakes already half devoured. Britt admitted John looked at him differently. A look of respect…a spark of loyalty…friendship. Kato saw it too. That's why the valet spoke up now.

"Boss."

Britt shrugged on the jacket. "Yes, Kato?"

"Their mother…the way he talked about her. Sad, bitter. Whatever happened to her, _made_ those two the way they are. I'm positive of that."

"How?"

Kato shrugged again. "A feeling, instinct. Whatever you want to call it."

Britt regarded him. He'd done well to follow Kato's gut feelings in the past. John's voice filtered in from the couch. Reading to his sister. Britt nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind. This too: no other child can call the Green Hornet their guardian. If anything dangerous _does _comes from this, I'll do whatever it takes to protect them. Whatever it takes."

Kato silently agreed, following him out to the study.

John looked up from his reading and smiled. It wasn't wide or even complete but a smile all the same.

"Hello, John. You and Mary ready to go? It's a big day today. Your pictures and a write up of your story's going into the evening edition."

The smile faltered as he stood, dropping the book on the coffee table. "Oh. I forgot about that. Erm…yeah. I think we're ready."

John stopped next to Kato. He looked as if he wanted say something to the other man. The moment passed and he could only muttered a goodbye to the valet. John took his sister's hand and followed Britt out of the apartment. Thoroughly wishing he wasn't. Thoroughly wishing he could tell them _everything_ without worrying they would be hurt by it. This was his to carry. He'd carry it to the grave.

If it came to that.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6  
><em>

Nurse Jennie Cameron sighed as she left the penthouse of her third sponsor appointment for the day. Some she could give more information on than others. This last one had been unusual in that the information on the child was plentiful.

Her next one, however, would be the complete opposite.

* * *

><p>"Hello, Kato? You said that appointment was for three, correct?…. Okay. I'll be there in a-what? …You did? When? …Oh. Thanks. Bye."<p>

Britt sat back in his chair and stretched. That was the downside of inactivity. Muscles that were used to action, cramped when they didn't get any. Restlessness had a habit of making everyday life a bore. Not to mention a fear that the Green Hornet could never go away if his body craved the alter ego the way he felt it did.

A knock on his office door brought his head up off the chair back and thoughts back to the present. Casey came in, glancing back once to wave at John and Mary as they sat at her desk.

"How are they behaving?"

She shrugged and shut the door. "Mary a silent angel and John…well."

Britt sat forward. "What?"

"He's different today. Last night he was talking up a storm. I didn't think it possible after the yes-and-no answers I'd gotten earlier yesterday. Now I can hardly get _that _from him. He keeps looking at the clock. Getting up and pacing around. Going outside as if he wants to talk to Mike or some of the others, then just turning around and coming back again. "

She shook her head. "He won't tell me what it is that's bothering him so I've stopped asking."

"Hm. I see. Well, I just talked to Kato. Seems he took the initiative to call the orphanage after we left this morning and had my appointment with a nurse moved here. Makes it is easier than going back and forth."

"Do you really think you'll get anything from it?"

"No…but what I do get is a start."

* * *

><p>John stood and looked out to the City Room. He should have stayed at the apartment. With his books. Or brought one with him at the very least. Something to keep his mind preoccupied.<p>

There was no way to stop his and his sister's pictures from being published. No way to stop Big Jack Rickert from seeing them and reading the story. No way to stop it.

That was the motto for the entire situation. From beginning to the inevitable end. He wondered, in a rather matter of fact way, who would get hurt first. Britt? Kato? Casey? Who would Jack Rickert go for first?

He rested his forehead against the glass. What was the use? He would never be free from this. He saw his mother die and that image would never leave him. Even if Jack Rickert disappeared from the picture. Even if he was cut loose from him and the torment he caused, John would always be bogged down by that one single, terrifying event.

He couldn't run away. Like he had first thought to do. Because Britt would go after him. John scrunched his eyes shut. The silly dope! Why did he have to care? Why did he have to be the hero? Most of all, why did John have to _like _him?

Voices were approaching from beyond the glass. He opened his eyes and brought his head up. Casey was walking with a woman in nurses garb toward the office. He recognized the doe-eyed, school-girl look and face of Nurse Jennie Cameron. Of course she'd be the one to come talk with Britt. It was perfect.

Just one big happy family. He frowned. He wanted no part of it. Not if there was to be a blood letting to tarnish it.

* * *

><p>He allowed himself to watch her lower into a chair. Thin. Willowy, really. Like she could bend in the wind. Large, brown eyes. Pools of innocence. He almost winced at how young she was. Too young, a child herself.<p>

She met his gaze with a hesitant smile while busying her hands pulling a file free from her bag. It was painfully thin.

She cleared her throat and began.

"Mr. Reid, my name is Nurse Jennie Cameron. On behalf of the State Home for the Lost and Orphaned, I would like to thank you once again for taking the time and effort to sponsor two of our children. The purpose of this meeting is for me to give you as much information on your sponsors as possible."

She faltered and glanced down at the folder in her hands. It was marked "Waters"-the quotes designated the fact it was a name given my the Home and not their own.

"Sadly…the information we have on John and Mary is…slim to none."

Britt nodded and sat forward, his hands folded on his desk. "To be honest, Nurse Cameron-"

"Please, Jennie."

"…erm, Jennie…I wasn't expecting very much. The only thing I've gotten out of John is they had a mother. What happened to her and where she might be now…." he shrugged.

"And…Mary hasn't spoken?"

"No. Not a word."

She opened the folder with what Britt saw to be a shaking hand. She handed it over to him and he placed it on his desk. Fingering through the contents, he saw a written report from two weeks ago. Their night of arrival. During the rainy stretch.

Jennie gestured to the paper. "We keep complete records on all our children. The first being their preliminary report. That is…when they first come to us, we have our doctors and psychologists examine them. Their findings are recorded. Along with behavior and overall personality."

She leaned forward in her chair to continue. "As you can see, Mr. Reid…."

"My turn: Britt."

She blinked, trying not to open and close her mouth dumbly as the name processed itself. She ended up smiling nervously.

"Of course. Britt. Well, um…as…as you can see, John and Mary came to us in quite bad shape. John appeared to have been beaten or at least in a fight. Mary…sadly just as shell-shocked as she is today. Um…they, they didn't appear too malnourished although they could have weighed more for their ages."

"Which you estimate to be around ten and five?" Britt asked, glancing up.

"Yes, around there. Just as with their real names, we couldn't get their exact ages. If you recall, it was very stormy the week of their arrival. The night they showed up, I believe, there was a fierce thunderstorm. Needless to say, two small children, one badly beaten, the other traumatized, showing up soak and wet in the middle of a stormy night isn't the usual. Even for us. When they didn't give us their names or ages, we thought it was just the circumstances."

"And the same for John's attitude?"

She blinked, then smiled wanly. "Of course you noticed that. He's already pushed you once. I should have remembered that."

Britt set the paper down. "You didn't fall for my act that night, huh?"

She smiled, and looked away from him, blushing. "No, I didn't. I, erm…I watched you that night. You're not the sort of man who just falls down."

She hazard a look to him and saw bemusement. "What…what I mean is," she added quickly, turning from pink to red, "John…John had already pushed several of our people away when they tried to touch or even get near his sister."

The color faded from her cheeks and she turned serious. "That's why I think whatever happened to them was horrible enough that he feels the need to shut the rest of the world off from him and his sister. He must protect her because no one else will. It's him against the world. Our psychologist's analysis of him says as much."

Britt fingered the enlarged photographs of the bruising, the cuts and the gashes John had had about his face and arms. He looked out to Casey's office to see her trying to engage Mary. John was sitting back, letting her do it, watching her fail at it. The bruising was almost gone and the other marks healing. He saw his petulant, guarded expression and Mary's blank face and knew the healing process was really just beginning.

"I'm going to help them." he said, turning back to her. "I'm going to help them, I promise you that. By the time they have to leave and go back to you, I'll have all the answers. I'll have closure for them, if that's possible."

He looked back once more, to see Casey was now holding Mary on her lap, tucking the girl's hair behind her ears. Jennie followed his line of sight. She stood to go to the window and watched quietly.

"Amazing." she breathed. "I never thought he'd let anyone near her. Casey…that is, Ms. Case, told me John had softened just a bit in the last few days. I guess I didn't believe her."

Britt stood and went to the window to stand with her.

"Surprised me too. You never know who they'll open up to."

She turned her head to him. Those brown pools seemed to drink him in.

" The moment I saw you approaching John and Mary that night, I knew you would take them. You had a look in your eye…I can't describe it. Just…just the pure need and want to help them, protect them. I guess. I don't know. No one else has ever looked upon a sponsor like that. You'll do what you have to do to help them. All I can do is thank you."

* * *

><p>He was so brutally handsome. It was almost unfair. She tried not to fumble or bumble her way through the appointment. In hindsight she thought it went very well.<p>

He even asked her to call him by name! He looked at her in a way that didn't make her feel cheap or violated. She felt alight in his eyes. She sighed as she rode the elevator down.

Speaking of those eyes….

Oh well.

* * *

><p>The Daily Sentinel hummed with production. The evening edition was on its way.<p>

"Alright, you two. Time to go."

John looked at him sideways from his place at the window, from his on and off watch of the City Room. The activity had increased steadily…each person pushing the evening edition toward completion. And their end with it.

He balled up a fist and put it against the glass. Quietly bumping it-drowning the want the smash it completely.

"…John? It's time for you to go."

Casey's hand on his shoulder startled him. He almost pulled away from her.

"I know. I got ears, don't I?" he snapped. Casey drew her hand back and John pushed past her, past a stunned Britt and grabbed Mary's hand to take her to the elevators.

"See what I mean?" Casey asked quietly, still looking out at the City Room.

"He shouldn't have done that. I don't know what's gotten into him. I'm sorry, Casey."

"No, don't apologize for him. Anybody could lash out when they're upset or anxious. I just wish I knew what was making him so."

"So do I. Jennie-"

Casey shot him a look.

"-Er, Nurse Cameron…gave me the Orphanage's end of it. John and Mary came to them in a thunderstorm during that rainy stretch we had. John looking like he'd been beaten or in a fight and Mary completely in shock. They wouldn't give their real ages or names so the Orphanage gave them the name "Waters" and only estimated their ages. Whatever happened is as much a mystery to them as it is to us."

"And it looks like the mystery's catching up to John. He knows what it is! Why won't he tell us?"

Britt touched her on the shoulder. That brought her around to him.

"We won't be able to do anything useful until the evening edition is out." His voice was soft and comforting. "There's no use beating yourself up over him before we have any clues to follow."

She smiled tiredly and touched her forehead with splayed fingers.

Britt saw this and squeezed her arm. "I'd invite you to dinner but…you look beat and erm…Crystal's going to be there."

"No. Thank you but you're right. I'm beat. Besides…I like my dinner _minus _indigestion."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he folded his arms across his chest.

"You know, there was a time when I thought you two could be friends."

"Really?" An eyebrow rose. "When was that?"

"Mmm…about five seconds after you met."

She laughed and leaned against the glass, her own arms folded loosely across her front. She saw the tension lines around his eyes; the worry creasing his forehead.

"The Green Hornet's going to have to get involved…isn't he?"

Britt's expression darkened. "I hope not. If he does, then so be it. Like I told Kato, no other child can call the Green Hornet their guardian. I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe."

* * *

><p>An older woman bustled her way down the old stairs of her apartment building. Pushing the battered door open, she hustled down the front stoop and onto the sidewalk. Pulling her shawl around her shoulders, gray bun bouncing as she shoved passed the people on the street.<p>

It was a typical street for that of the Red Light District. Dirty, oily from the leaking cars. Tired feet of men trudged home after work or looking for employment. At least it was summer, not fall or winter. At least it was warm and not cold. Not yet, because then they would pull out the old, holey jackets and boots and do the same thing. Only this time with chattering teeth and aching bones.

The women held the same tired, worn expressions from taking care of the home and children while their men made just enough to scrape by. Some not at all, forcing their wives to take side jobs for extra money.

At the corner, a newsboy hawked the latest edition of the Daily Sentinel. Past the open windows and doors of her neighbors, the smells of various dinners wafting out, this woman stopped the boy and gave him a quarter.

"Thanks, lady. Here ya are. …Getchyer evening paper! Sentinel publisher asks for public's help! Getchyer paper!"

His shouts followed her back to her building, where she stopped dead in her tracks at the front page story. Her mouth fell open and her eyes flashed a look of fear. They darted to the upper floors of the apartment. Particularly to that on which a window facing the side alley was open. Where a loud conversation between five slightly drunken men filtered down.

She clutched the paper to her bosom and raced, was well as a sixty-five year old widow with arthritis could, back up the stoop and through the door; up the stairs to the second floor. Room 104.

She needed to think.

* * *

><p>"…The hell is <em>this!<em>"

Jack Rickert waved the dollar bill in the man's face. "A dollar bill? He said raise, you bum!"

The man, Karl, chomped his cigar out of the way. "So I did. I raised him a dollar. What's wrong with that? Is my money all of a sudden not good enough for you, Jacky?"

Jack tossed it in his face and the bill floated to the table top. "C'mon, c'mon. You got a five in there!"

"Which I ain't using cuz I ain't losing it to _him! "_

Karl jabbed his finger across the table at Dirty Rat. The man's mouth twitched and his finger tapped the side of his coffee cup.

"Look at 'em! Now I ask ya: how can that loser have anything? So I'm raising him a dollar. Okay? Can we get on with the game, please?"

C'mon, Jack. Just let him do it."

Jack shot a look to his dock partner, George, sitting to his left at the table. Next to Dirty Rat, Smithy, the old Irish crane operator, hazard a look at the man's hand. He scrunched up his nose and shook his head.

"Might I be getting a sandwich, Jacky?" He asked, standing stiffly.

"Sure, sure. Go ahead. Just hurry, huh? I'd like to play more than just five hands this time."

The apartment showed no signs of the struggle it contained two week prior. No blood, no holes, nothing broken. Jack Rickert had cleaned it up well. Now it was a smoke and sweat filled poker haven for five dock workers.

Beer bottles littered the table and floor around the chair legs. Old potato chip bags, some half filled with chips, lay crumpled around them (Jack had a thing about playing with greasy cards.). The television set, newly repaired, was on but the volume was low.

"Ah-HA! See? What I tell ya? He's got _nothing_!"

Karl triumphantly chewed his cigar and shoveled his winnings toward him. "Five dollars…ha!"

Dirty Rat lowered his eyes and played with his cup before taking a drink. Jack glared at him and stood to go to the kitchen where Smithy happily piled a sandwich together.

"There any beer left?" Jack asked as he peered in to the fridge.

"No. I think yer whiskey is low too."

Jack slammed the fridge shut. "Between you and Rat out there I'm not surprised."

"Ah now, boy-o. I take my nips, yes. But that lad out there is a _fish!"_

Jack waved him off and went back out the poker table, reaching in his back pocket for his wallet. It was thicker than it was this morning. The game had been good tonight.

"We playing another hand, or what?" George asked, shuffling the cards.

"Go ahead and deal. I'll play the next one. I'm going to get more beer."

* * *

><p>John tugged on his starch collar. Buttoned up shirt, creased pants and shined shoes. Mary a little doll in frills. If he wasn't so damned preoccupied, he would have objected. Heatedly.<p>

The evening edition was out. The end was nearer. Everything on one level or another annoyed him, grated on frayed nerves. Rubbed the wrong way, like his collar.

On top of that…Crystal was here. Which meant Bridgett was here too. Her laughter ringing, high voice caterwauling. And Bridgett yammering away…. That's why they were out there and he in his room. Of course Crystal had _insisted _on Mary sitting with her…and usually John would say no.

But….

His hands found their way to his hair and clutched hard; yanking, pulling. Self-hate, self-pity, self-_loathing_.

"John?" A knock. Britt's voice. "John, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

Hands pulled apart and hastily fixed mussed hair. Shoulders un-hunched and a sleeve wiped eyes dry. Just in time for the door to open.

"John, what's the matter?"

The bed depressed as Britt sat down. His hand covered a thin shoulder and there was no shrugging away.

"Nothing. Nothing. I think I'm just tired. I've been up since four, you know."

"Yes, I heard. Lone Ranger, huh?"

"Yeah. They're cool stories. …How come you didn't tell me your great-uncle, John Reid, was the Lone Ranger?"

Britt shrugged. "I did say I'd tell you a thing or two about him some night before bed. Remember?"

John nodded but couldn't find the enthusiasm for anything more. He slide off the bed, leaving Britt's hand to fall.

"So, uh, who's this you want me to meet?"

Britt pressed his mouth into a firm line and stood. They walked out together. Bridgett's voice could be heard from the kitchen, torturing Kato with her rapid-fire questions and self-answers. Crystal, champagne class in hand, was schmoozing it up with an older man. Glasses, rumpled suit, lined face. Kinda bookish, to John at any rate.

"Frank, this is the other half. John. John, this Frank Scanlon."

"Hello, John." His voice was deep. A smoker. Half the people in their old apartment building sounded the same. John eyed the outstretched hand, felt Britt's hold on his shoulder and he had no choice but to take it.

"Scanlon…Scanlon…." he intoned as he shook the man's hand. "I know that name…yeah. That's it."

He dropped the hand like a hot potato. "What is this?" he demanded, spinning around to Britt. "Frank Scanlon-he's the District Attorney!"

Bushy eyebrows rose behind thick glasses. "Yes. The last time I checked I was."

John shot the man a dirty look, then went back to Britt. "Well?"

"John, I know he is. What's wrong with that?"

The boy looked as though Britt was the dullest thing on two legs right then.

"District Attorney's are glorified lawyers. They put people away in prison for a long time. Your old man, Britt. He was convicted! And you're buddies with the guy who _did it?_

Frank shot Britt a look. Britt, in turn, hastily led the boy off to the side. Kneeling, intent of smoothing things out, he took John by the arms.

"The District Attorney who prosecuted my father was the old one. It was his last case before he turned the office over to Frank. Frank had nothing to do with my father's case or his death. Nothing. And I want no more of this _attitude_ tonight! You won't tell me what's bothering you so I can't help. But _don't _take it out on everybody else. You understand me?"

A small, wavering chin barely tipped in acquiescence. "I do", came the barely whispered response.

Britt searched the boy's face, trying to find some opening in the armor to exploit and get the needed answers. None were forthcoming so Britt let go and nodded.

"Okay. I'm holding you to that, now. Go apologize to Mr. Scanlon. Then we can eat."

John shuffled under Britt's guiding hand back to Scanlon. He met the man's eyes and said he was sorry with just enough meaning to be believable. From the kitchen, Bridgett exploded in a mass of pigtails and frills to crush John in an embrace. He pulled her arms from around his neck.

"Oh, John! It's so good to see you and Mary again! I've missed you! Have you missed me? I hope you have. We could have so much fun if only-"

Crystal cut her off with a tinkling laugh and cool hand around the back of her neck.

"Now, now Bridgett. That's quite enough. Dinner's ready."

The girl wilted completely under her sponsor's touch and dutifully trudge to the patio. An extra table and chairs had been set up for a twilight dinner. Crickets chirped while a warm breeze fluttered the flames of the candles. Once they were seated, Kato wheeled out a fancy array of appetizers and drinks.

"Mmm. Kato. This is delicious!" Crystal exclaimed, wiping her mouth on her napkin. She put her hand over Britt's and laughed.

"You know, Britt. If you're not careful, I might just steal him away from you!"

From the children's table, John watched this and ground his teeth. "That'll be the day." He muttered under his breath.

It was lost on everybody save Britt, who shot him a stern look. John shrugged and busied himself with his food. Britt looked back to Crystal and smiled.

"Who? Kato? I don't know about that. What do you think, Kato?"

The valet stopped his trip around the tables, and looked to Britt. "I have no wish to work for anyone else. Not for any price."

Frank swallowed his food and raised his glass. "Here, here! A toast to loyalty."

The adults responded in kind. As Kato rounded the children's table, he saw John's eyes glittering with tears that refused to fall.

"Are you okay?"

The boy darted a look to the man, blinking away the tears masterfully. "Me? Yeah. Fine. Good food." And shoveled another mouthful in. Bridgett, completely unaware as she had been watching the adults, turned back with a smile and another forkful herself.

"Isn't it?"

John rolled his eyes and saw Kato still watching him intently. When he finally turned away and went back in the house, John put his full attention back on the adult's table.

* * *

><p>A shaking hand dialed the number. The same hand nervously tugged an old wool shawl into place.<p>

_Please_ _hurry! Please! Ohhhh, if only the landlord had fixed _my _telephone! Ah. There. Finally!_

"H-hello? Is this the Orphanage? Good. My name is Mrs. Wendy White. I'm calling in regard to the front page story in the Sentinel? Y-yes. I-I believe I have some information I can give you on those two children."

* * *

><p>Jack shifted his grip on the four 6-packs he was carrying. He doubted it would be enough but he didn't want to spend anymore than he had. Rent was getting expensive. Not to mention those pay-offs to certain parties to keep their mouths shut on a certain, unmentionable event.<p>

He narrowed his eyes and ground his teeth as he turned the corner to his street. The dumb broad. Nag, nag, nag. _When you gonna do this, when you gonna do that. Fixed the pipes, fix the phone. _

Not that he wasn't man enough to handle _that, _but the boozing. And the new barfly every night. He'd beaten up plenty of them to know. The belly-achin' over his dock jobs, his poker nights, his friends.

And then those kids. Those good-for-nothing, snot-nosed brats. The boy and his mouth. Christ but he should have belted him when he had the chance. The girl always crying and screaming! The hell was a man suppose to do?

And then _she_ wants to leave _him? Psssh. _Like that's likely. _Oh but it's your fault I'm the way I am-a floozy who can't say no to drink or any guy willin' to pay for one! It's your fault my kids are dirty and unschooled. It's your fault we're broke. It's your fault, it's you fault, IT'S YOUR FAULT!_

The beer slipped a few inches on either side of him and he hefted them back into place. She fought back that night. First time too. They'd gotten into fights before, sure. But they usually ending with her black and blue and sorry and him all worked up for nothing. It wasn't _his _fault. It was _hers._

Up the stoop, kick open the door and up the-what's that?

"…Yes, that's right. The address 428 West Side Street. Apartment 104. Yes. Oh _thank you._ This is a load off my mind. Anything to help those poor dears. Yes, thank you. Goodbye."

The beer slipped for real this time. Fell to the floor with a clink. She started and looked up from putting the phone back. The color drained from the wrinkled face and the paper she'd had folded under her arm fluttered downward. His eyes caught the front page as it unfolded.

The photograph. The headline. No. _No. _Fist curled, biceps rippled, jaw line hardened. Jack brought his head up slowly to face the old woman. She hurriedly collected her paper and sidestepped to the stairs.

She tried bravado while she still had her ground to stand upon.

"You couldn't hide it forever, Jack. We all know what happened. We were just afraid. Afraid! Of a coward like you! Not anymore. _I've _made up my mind. Everybody in this whole city is going to know what happened, starting with those kids! And there's _nothing_ you can do about it!"

Every bit of courage left her when the man's face completely changed under a mask of fury. He advanced, but not slowly. Too fast for an old woman. Chased up the stairs to her room, the door opening as she reached behind her and twisted the knob. Pushed in, cornered. He shut the door behind them.

" No! Jack, _no!"_

A feral growl issued forth. "You dirty….busybody…_HAG!"_

* * *

><p>Casey pushed her chair away from her desk and checked her watch. Good Lord, she should be home by now. Her eyes blurred as she shuffled her papers into neat piles and placed them in their folders. Definitely sleeping tonight…..<p>

She sighed and stood, putting her chair back and grabbed her purse. Casey was slinging it over her shoulder when the phone rang. Of course….

"Hello. This is Ms. Case, Mr. Reid's secretary. What can I do for you?"

"Ms. Case? This is Mrs. Carter, the head of the Orphanage?"

"Oh, Mrs. Carter. Yes."

"We received a call a while ago regarding Mr. Reid's article on John and Mary Waters. It seems someone might know something about them. Or at least that's what they claim."

"I see. Name, address? Anything like that?"

"The woman said her name was…." There was a pause while the woman searched for the information. "Mrs. Wendy White. 428 West Side Street. Apartment number 104."

Casey scribbled the information down in short hand. " I'll get this to Mr. Reid right away."

"Do that, Ms. Case. And…tell him thank you. From me."

Casey smiled. "Of course. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Casey put the phone back, waited a few seconds, then picked up again. Dialed Britt's home number and waited.

* * *

><p>Halfway through the entrees, the phone rang from inside. Britt wiped his mouth and excused himself from the patio. John's eyes followed his path. Kato reached the phone before him and dutifully answered.<p>

"Britt Reid's residence."

"Hello, Kato."

"Hello, Ms. Case."

"I have some information for Mr. Reid."

"Of course. Here he is."

The phone was handed off.

"Hello, Casey."

"I'm not disturbing anything, am I?"

" Now, now. _Just _dinner. Frank's here, not to mention the kids."

"How cozy."

"What's the message?"

He heard paper moving as Casey went to answer. "Your article's already started garnering attention. A Mrs. Wendy White at 428 West Side Street, apartment 104. She says she has information regarding John and Mary."

Britt's hand tightened on the phone. "Good. I'll go down their tomorrow morning, first thing."

"…Do you want Mike to go along with you?"

Britt turned in to the phone. "No. Why?"

"Well…."

"Oh, I get it. It's a bad part of town and you don't want me to get hurt. Right?"

"Cute. No. You could ask the questions and he could get the answers for you, that's all."

"I think I can handle a simple interview."

"Whatever you say. I'll…let you get back to your dinner."

"Goodnight, Casey."

After he hung up, Britt momentarily leaned on the phone.

"Boss?"

Kato came up behind him. "Okay?"

He glanced over his shoulder, smiling in a goofy- happy way.

"We've got something."

Britt slapped him on the back as he passed and went back to the patio.

"More champagne!" he called out as he sat back down.

Crystal's eyes lit up and her eyebrows arched gracefully. "And what prompted this?"

Britt refilled everyone's glass. Bridgett stopped in mid-chew and looked wide-eyed between them. John's hand involuntarily lowered away from his mouth.

This was it. The pounding of his heart rose in his ears. He barely heard Britt say Casey had called to inform him the Orphanage was already fielding calls regarding the article. That a woman named White from a West Side Street apartment had called to say she might know something. That Britt would be going there first thing tomorrow morning.

Cold swept through him. His hand lost all strength to hold his fork and he let it go.

Crystal's high voice entered the conversation. Cooing and gushing how _wonderful_ that was. _Finally_ they'd know what happened to them! Heat replaced cold. Eyes scrunched shut.

Scanlon would inquire tomorrow morning if the police had any suspicious reports from the West Side Street area. He wouldn't find anything.

Crystal's laugh and her bracelets clinking together as she raised her glass-"A toast to John and Mary! May all be well for them for now-."

"Shut up."

The growl surprised even him. John found himself on his feet, hands balled together to stop from shaking. A sick kind of logic had sprouted as he listen to them. Hate and be hated. If you hated and they hated, they no longer loved you and you no longer cared for them. If they no longer loved, they couldn't be hurt.

"Shut up. All of you. Now."

The adults stopped mid-toast and stared.

John's eyes flashed to Crystal. "You especially. I'm _sick_ of hearing your voice, your laugh. You don't mean a _damn_ thing you say. You're _FAKE!" _

Crystal's glass lowered completely.

"You all act like you give a care what happened. Maybe Britt does, but the rest of you don't. _I never_ asked for this. _I _would have been fine living the rest of my life out in the orphanage or on the streets, if I knew I'd be left alone. But no. You all had to _butt _ in. Go where you shouldn't go, do what you shouldn't do. It's _my _life! _MINE! _When the hell did it become a circus, a plaything for people who could_ never_ understand?

"And _you_," he rounded back to Crystal. The poison in his voice came from somewhere deep in him. His mind had gone red, a well of rage boiling to the surface. Where it had been waiting since that night in the rain.

"I don't know if you're blind or just plain _stupid. _I'm guessing _stupid._ But it's _never_ been you! _Never! _You think everything you touch is yours. But Britt isn't yours and he never will be! It's Casey, you idiot! He loves Casey, not you! Even _I _can see it! So, back off! And get the hell out! You're nothing be a low-down, money-grubbing witch! A blonde-haired bimbo! A…"

The curse words flowed out of him like a switch had been flipped. All the words he had heard his mother's boyfriends say. What Jack had screamed every fight. Scanlon and Britt were suddenly standing, the latter beside him. The last curse John heard himself spew was 'hussy', before words became screams then heaving sobs.

Strong hands pulled him from the patio, through the apartment to his room. He was set roughly on the bed and the door slammed shut. The hands were back on his shoulders, tightening. He heard his name being shouted from somewhere. He couldn't get a grip. He was so angry, the red haze so thick. It was choking the sense right out of him.

He fought back, pushing, punching. But they were batted or held back. His arms screamed in protest when they were suddenly twisted behind his back in a way they weren't designed to go.

"…John! John…John…JOHN! _**JOHN!"**_

The red haze broke and faded. Reason took hold. He heard himself sobbing, whimpering. He was nearly face-down on the bed, held back just inches from the cover.

"…John?"

The voice came softer now.

He swallowed and tried to breath.

"Let…let me go, please."

The tension released and he was eased down to the bed. He rolled over and sat up slowly. Sniffling and snorting, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He dared to look Britt in the face. He expected an angry glare, a tongue lashing at the very least. Instead he saw only the look his mother used to give him after a fight with a boyfriend. When she felt so guilty for putting him through that. When she would stroke his head until he slept. When she would hum his favorite lullaby to soothe him.

"John."

He melted, throwing himself at Britt and hugging him fiercely around the neck. Tears flowed again as arms enveloped and buried him against Britt's body.

"It's okay. John, it's okay. Go ahead and cry. Don't be afraid."

Suddenly, from out on the patio, more sobs grew. Grew to a wail. Every muscle in John's body tensed and he quieted immediately. His head came up.

"Mary." he gulped. "That's Mary! I've got to go to her…!"

Britt tensed as well. He put John back on the bed. "Stay here."

"But that's _Mary!"_

"No. I'll go."

Britt left him and met Kato outside the room. The man's brow was furrowed.

"What happened?"

"A mini explosion. Sit with him, will you?"

Kato nodded and went past him, shutting the door. The wails were louder out here, so when he met a furious Crystal on the way, she had more than one reason to yell.

"I _never _thought I would be treated like _this _in _your _home, Britt. Least of all yours. But then again that was _before_. This is now. I said you've changed. _Obviously _for the worst for you to allow a street brat to talk to me like that. You and your sponsoring!" she spat out and spun on her heel.

Bridgett stood at the patio doors, staring wide-eyed outside. Crystal snapped at her it was time to leave.

"Come, Bridgett. We're leaving."

"But I want to stay _here! _John and Mary _need me!"_

Crystal strode over and snatched her arm. "That's _enough! We're leaving!"_

Bridgett pouted as she was dragged to the door. "Fine. But when we get home, can you tell me what hussy means?"

The door slammed shut.

Speechless, Britt blinked and then refocused on the crying and its source. On the patio, Frank Scanlon held Mary to him, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet in an attempt to quiet her. To no avail because she was still screaming.

Frank saw Britt and brought her over to him. "I don't what happened. One minute she's like a zombie, the next she just started wailing!"

"Here. Give her to me."

She was carefully passed between the two. Britt shifted his hold on her until he was comfortable with where she was. Petting her head and stroking her back. Anything to quiet her. He wasn't surprised that it had been violent events that made a shell-shocked victim, had also brought her back.

Frank patted him on the shoulder as he moved to the patio doors. He stopped to look back.

"They're lucky, Britt. They've got you."

Britt managed a resemblance of a smile before another gust hit him. Frank left quietly. Moments later Kato brought John from his room to the patio. Britt was still pacing with Mary in his arms. She was settling, only sniffling and whimpering now.

He had his back to the sliding doors; didn't see Kato stop and let John go.

"Mary?"

His raw voice cracked. Britt turned around and looked down at him. He held Mary one-handed and reached his other out to John. The boy hugged him around the middle, Britt's arm resting across his shoulders. He walked him back into the house, Kato following. When Britt opened the bedroom door, Kato moved up to pull down the cover and sheets. John let go and peeled off his dress shirt, leaving the undershirt on. He kicked off his shoes, yanked off his socks and climbed in.

Britt carefully laid Mary on the other side, careful not wake her. She had just started to doze. John watched the two men as they went to the end of the bed, tiredly watching over them. He blinked his eyes to keep awake but is was no use. He slipped further under the covers and rolled to his side. He reached out to touch his sister's hand. It reflexively closed under his.

The lights went off, the open door briefly letting outside light in as two shadows left them to sleep. John and Mary would stay hand-in-hand until morning.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

"Jack! J-Jack, c-c'mon! It's m-me!"

The door rattled under his banging. "Jack! J-Jack!

It swung open and nearly sent him spilling forward. Jack glowered in his wife beater and shorts.

"Jesus, you-you l-look terrible!"

"Get in."

Jack swept the hallway with a critical look before slamming the door. Rat watched Jack move back to his bedroom. A drawer was roughly opened and closed. He came out again with pants on.

"Erm…Jack…t-the g-guys are a-a l-little-."

"What? Upset?" He snapped from the kitchen, where his coffee was brewing.

Rat hesitantly peeked in. "Well…y-yes. Af-after all, you d-did kick th-them out last night."

Jack had his cup and pushed past Rat. "Yeah. Well. I had my reasons."

He went to the couch and sat down, holding it in both hands and elbows on his knees. When all Rat could do was stare, waiting for the 'reasons', Jack sighed.

"We've got a problem."

Rat sat across from him on a threadbare chair. His hands shook, so he sat on them.

"W-what k-kind of problem?"

Jack got up and went to the bathroom. When he returned, he tossed the evening edition in Rat's face.

"Sorry it's only last nights. I'm sure you'll get a kick out of it. I did."

Jack collapsed back on the couch and watched Rat unfold the crumpled paper. By the end of the front page story, he was on his feet and stammering.

"N-no…Jack. N-no. Tha-that's t-them! But h-how…h-how…oh my god."

He sat down again. "E-veryb-body r-reads the Sentinel a-around here. T-they see that…s-some m-might get a-anxious."

"Well, congratulations, Rat. That's the first intelligent thought you've had. They _are _getting anxious! I caught old Mrs. White last night, calling the Orphanage to blab. Snatched the paper from her and made sure she wouldn't do it again. Who knows how many of 'em have talked or are thinking about it!"

Jack's jaw was hard at work as he tapped his nails against the cup's side. "Mrs. White won't talk again. I guarantee it. We've got to make sure the others don't either."

"Sure, J-Jack. I-I'll take care of it."

"There's one more thing. Something a bit more serious."

His eyes fell on to the front page story; the smiling face of Britt Reid. Rat followed suit.

"H-him."

"Yeah. Reid. Power, money. Class. Bad mix in our case. He'll blow this thing wide open before ya know it. I don't want his nose sticking where it don't belong, understand?"

"Oh sure. I-I get it. But-but w-what can we do?"

Jack chewed his lip, then took a sip of coffee. "I don't know. I don't want to hit him directly. Too much could go wrong. Got too many lawyers, too much money to take that chance. Nope…."

Rat could see the man's mind working. " We gotta hit him indirectly. But make it hurt."

"…The kids?"

Jack shook his head vehemently. "No, you idiot! That's the _last _thing we do! We gotta soften him up first."

A crooked smile broke out on his face. "You remember that rich dame you were ogling in the paper a few days back? What was her name? Crystal something or other….."

Rat alighted on it and tore through the paper, ripping the front page to get to the second. "Yeah…yeah! Th-that's her!" He tripped over himself to get next to Jack. "L-look! See h-her name? R-read it, huh?"

Jack took the edge of the paper and scanned it until he saw her name. "'Mr. Reid was not alone in his sponsoring. Several other members of this city's elite opened their homes to the needy children. Among them was Ms. _Crystal Monahan_, an expatriate of the city and daughter of the advertising tycoon Cliften Monahan. Mr. Reid has been spotted out about town with her multiple times, leading to rumors they may be romantically linked.'"

Jack looked up from reading, a certain glint in his eye. "It's perfect."

"W-well, s-sure, Jack. But how?"

"Easy." He toss the paper down on the table along side his cup. "Spread the word. We got friends across this town. And they've got friends who have even more friends. We gotta pin this broad down. Then when we've got her," His hands closed to fist. "We'll make sure Reid knows about it."

* * *

><p>The bags were packed. They'd be leaving with far more than they came with. A shame it would probably be borrowed or stolen once they got back. John look in the mirror and smoothed his hair. Made a face when it sprung back up every which way. He saw Mary watching him from the bed. No more blank looks, or a thumb in her mouth.<p>

"You ready to go?"

It was such a relief to see her respond, to comprehend. Even if it was just a shrug. He sat next to her.

"You don't want to leave, do you?"

She looked at him sideways, busily tracing the bed cover pattern with her finger. "Why?" she asked in a small voice. John looked at the door, his eyes narrowing. "Because I screwed up last night. Bad. There's no way we can stay. Besides, we gotta think about Big Jack, Mare. He knows where we are now. He'll come for us. You don't want Britt or anybody to get hurt, do you?"

"No. But. Britt's…nice. Not mean."

"I know but you can't mouth off to these kind of people. Even if they _are _nice."

"He's nice." she repeated. "I don't wanna go."

He huffed out a sigh. "Me neither. Anyway, I'm sure that…_girlfriend_ of his will pull her strings and make them give us back. All of this won't matter once Jack gets here."

He looked back to her. "C'mon."

He gave her a hand off the bed and held it firmly while grabbing the lightest bag. They'd come back for the others. It was his fault after all…he tried to be a man about it and look where it got them! On borrowed time until Big Jack came pounding down the door.

Putting his best face forward, he eased open the partially closed door and walked out. John heard Britt's voice in the kitchen, discussing last night's episode with Kato. To hear what he did, to know some of the things he said…his face grew hot.

Britt was sitting at the table with a glass of orange juice and a plate of toast, eggs and sausage. The Daily Sentinel's morning edition was off to the side. Kato, dressed in his white and black-tie outfit, leaned casually against the counter.

It looked so perfect.

"He-hello, Britt. Kato."

They both looked up, ready with a good morning on their lips. They stopped when they saw them in their old State Home uniforms. Britt pushed the chair back and stood, clearly taken aback. Kato didn't seem to know what to make of it either.

"John…Mary…you're in old uniforms."

"That's right, Britt." John couldn't force his voice to go any louder. It was stuck at quiet, barely above letting it fade completely.

He knelt down in front of them.

"Why? You…you don't need them. We still have today, Friday and the rest of the weekend before you have to go back."

Then he saw the small bag in John's hand. He stared at it, uncomprehending; shot an almost pained look at the boy.

"I'm sorry, Britt. I don't want to do this." He looked to his sister. "We both like it here a lot. Mary's gonna talk again and…me and you got an understandin' that's all right. Kato's really nice, too. But…" he shook his head.

"It's all wrong. I'm all wrong. We both are. Crystal was right, we're just two street bums."

"Now, J-"

"No. She was right. And me blowing up like that just proves how bad we are for you. Now, it's my fault and I gotta take care of it."

"By leaving."

That hurt.

"I…I don't know what else to do! We'd just drag ya down even more."

Britt cupped their chins in either hand. "No. You're not going to run because you don't have to. I want you here. You've done nothing but good for me, and Kato…and Casey…Mike. Everybody. You haven't dragged anybody down except yourselves with worrying about stuff you don't have to. So, let's have nothing more about you two leaving before it's time, okay?"

That smile of his lit up his face as he tweaked Mary's nose and ruffled John's hair. Mary squeezed her brother's hand and let go to reach up at Britt. He laughed and picked her up.

"I think this means she's staying. C'mon, John. What do you say?"

_You lousy dope! _

He wrapped his arms around Britt's middle and buried his head in his shirt.

"Okay." Came the muffled reply.

"Good. So."

He set Mary down and John let go.

"You two go and change out of those things and have some breakfast. I've got to see someone about you and when I get back, we'll go to the movies. Maybe lunch later?"

They nodded.

"Alright. Hop to it."

* * *

><p>Britt slammed the door of his convertible. The forecast for the rest of the week called for the return of rain so the top was up and the doors locked. He looked up at the gray sky.<p>

The surrounding scenery didn't help the gloom. This was, after all, the West Side. He knew this area well, the Green Hornet often worked here. As Britt Reid, however, he was consciously aware of the looks he was catching from those on the street. Nicely tailored suit, nice car-obviously didn't fit.

When he approached the stoop of 428 West Side Street, the crowd of men gathered around it barely parted to make way for him. They glared up and down. On the top step, a man just as tall but far more heavily built than Britt, casually blocked his path.

"Mr. Britt Reid."

Britt eyed him up just as a matter of record. He had a feeling he'd see the man again. "Yes. I don't believe I know you, though."

"That don't matter, really."

"I'm afraid it does. Because I have business with somebody in this apartment and you're keeping me from it."

The man grinned. "Exactly." That grin disappeared. "Actually you don't got any business in there. So…why don't you just turn around and walk back to that nice little car of yours and scram?"

Britt found the Green Hornet side of him trying to slip in place. He couldn't allow it just then.

"I see. Well. Perhaps another time, then."

And then he turned away. The men parted for him in victory, sniggering at his back. He went to his car, fired the engine and drove away…around the block. Pulling up on the other side of the apartment, Britt killed the engine and went to stand at the edge of the building. The men were still snickering until their leader ducked inside and they followed. Britt waited until the heavy door closed to dart around the front, then to the alley way. He looked over the fire escape and jumped to grab the bottom.

It slide down under his weight. He let go and stepped back until it had descended fully before scrambling all the way up to the roof. He hopped over the small ledge and lightly ran to the roof exit. Did the same as he moved down the stairs. He stopped on the third floor landing when he heard the leader of the pack describing Britt's visit.

"Yeah, you pegged him right, Jack. He came alright. And left just as fast, too."

Britt perked at a name. Jack. The real leader, perhaps?

'"…Of course we're sure his gone! Drove right away. Yeah. Okay. You want us to stay? …Alright, talk to you later."

A phone was hung up. "C'mon, he wants us to stick around just to make sure Reid don't come back."

They shuffled out, mumbling among themselves. When they were gone, Britt took the rest of the way quickly. He stopped in front of apartment 104 and knocked quietly. The seconds stretched agonizingly slow between his first and second knocks. He put his ear to the door but couldn't be sure if there was someone in there or not.

"Mrs. White? Mrs. Wendy White? I'm Britt Reid, head of the Daily Sentinel. You called regarding an article in last night's paper? I'd like to discuss it with you."

If he hadn't been used to pressure situations, Britt would be sweating now. He was flashing looks here and there to the front door as it was.

A click. Lock opening. Two more clicks, two more locks. The door opened a crack.

He stepped closer, smiling. "Mrs. White?"

The door almost shut. "Please." A wavering voice said through the slim opening. "Go away."

Britt tried again. "Mrs. White, you called because you wanted to help. I need that help."

"_Please._" The voice pleaded. "I made a mistake! Go away!"

The door was closing. Britt made an impulse decision and planted his palm on the wood. The pressure lessened on the other side.

"Wanting to help two children is _not _a mistake."

His gentle voice must have done the trick because she walked away, leaving the door unlocked. He pushed inside. Mrs. White faced away from him, leaning on an old recliner in the center of her small living room. A kitchenette was to the left and a small bed and bathroom off the living room at the right.

She was a small woman, barely five feet two inches. A faded floral dress with a wool shawl pulled over her head and worn slippers added to her grandmotherly appeal. Because of that Britt couldn't understand her change in attitude.

Until she pulled her shawl off and turned around. Britt took a step back, visibly grimacing. Someone had beaten her about the face-bruises, cuts and swelling. Britt knew how she must feel. But he couldn't understand it! Indignant anger over the person who could hurt an old woman like this rose up within him.

"Now you can see why it was a mistake." she whispered. "Now you can see why I don't want you here! Because it is about more than just two helpless children. You _must _see that now. They stopped you from entering this building. I know they did, so God knows how you managed to get in. God knows why you care so much, you'd risk your life like this. That is what it amounts to, Mr. Reid. You risking your _life_."

She pulled her shawl over her head and turned away once more.

"You don't know…how far this goes." Her voice was choked. " Frankly, you don't want to know. What they did to me was a warning for the others. Go, Mr. Reid. Now. Before they come back."

Britt swallowed and took hesitant steps toward her. She stiffened when she sensed him getting nearer. He halted.

"Mrs. White, I'm sorry. I didn't know what it was all about before. Now I think I'm beginning to see. I would never have wished this on anyone. If I had known the repercussions…."

"There's nothing you could have done. Now, you can just go."

"Before I do…I need one answer. You can just nod. Then I'll go."

She was still, clutching her shawl tightly.

"Did those two children live here, in this building?"

She hesitated, then an almost imperceptible nod.

"Thank you."

He went to the door and turned the handle. Ducked a quick look out to make sure no surprises awaited him. Britt glanced back to the woman. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

"Mrs. White, I _promise_ you…when this is all over, they will never hurt you or anyone else again. You have my word."

He left the way he came. The men on the stoop were none the wiser when a V-8 engine belonging to a white convertible fired around the corner from them and sped off. They might have heard a woman crying but then again, this _was _the West Side.

* * *

><p>Jack lit a cigarette and tossed the match into the water. He leaned on a dock pylon and huffed a cloud of smoke into the air. It was cooler today. Low seventies. Cloudy. Probably start raining soon. He squinted up at the overcast.<p>

So things were falling into place. George had called to say Reid showed but left quickly enough. Typical. Now he had his people scouting the city for any sign of the man's girlfriend. Rat was manning the phone in the dock foreman's office. He grinned to himself and took another drag.

"J-Jack! H-hey, Jack!"

He tossed his cigarette in the water and pushed off the pylon. Rat was waving from the office.

"Got something?" He asked once he was close enough.

"Uh-huh. George's w-wife's sister's b-best fr-friend just called. You know, the-the one w-who works at that r-real fan-fancy beauty sa-salon over in the shopping district?"

"Yeah?"

"W-well, sh-she said she saw the M-Monahan lady shopping a-across the street just a few minutes ago."

"She still there?"

"Y-yeah. D-don't k-now for how l-long, though."

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>Britt Reid doesn't usually storm the Sentinel. Not unless he's extremely upset or angry. Or if he was, at the time, wearing a mask. So when he charged out from the elevators and stormed through the City Room, past her and Mike without even so much as a glance, Casey knew he was fuming. The windows rattled as he slammed his office door shut. She cast a look out her windows and saw quite a few employees still staring.<p>

"…Did you see that?" Mike asked, peeking his head into her office.

"Uh-huh."

"Just making sure."

A buzz. "Ms. Case."

She winced.

"Right away, Mr. Reid."

Casey slowly made her way in. She wasn't sure why but shutting his door with as much care as possible seemed appropriate.

"It's more than I expected."

"What do you mean?"

"John. Mary. They're part of something much bigger, much more dangerous."

Casey bowed her head. "I see. So the visit with Mrs. White-."

"-Was very enlightening. Call Scanlon. We need to talk."

* * *

><p>"…Britt…."<p>

"…I just need those records!"

"Britt, you're not listening…."

"…Mrs. White said they lived there. _John _said they had a mother. Their _mother _would have had _her _name down on the rental agreement. Probably her kids names too!…."

Scanlon turned his head away in frustration. "Britt, shut up for a minute!"

The talking stop mid-sentence and a clearly surprised Britt stopped his pacing and stared.

"Did you just tell me to shut up?"

"Yes! Because you're not _listening_! You're completely forgetting how laws work here! You should know, you break enough of them."

Britt crossed his arms. "Okay. I'm listening."

"Good. Now. You _know, _or at least used to, I need more than just shoddy circumstantial evidence to get a court order for those apartment records. On second thought, I wouldn't even _call _what you just shared with me circumstantial evidence!"

"Then I'll get them as the Green Hornet."

Scanlon stopped and let his arms fall to his side. He was evidently done trying to talk to him. He sighed and clapped Britt on the shoulder. "Britt. Please. One of the last few times I tried to reason with you, you punched me in the face and did what you wanted anyway.

" But this time, I'm asking you: as one friend to another, stop. Look at you, you're practically vibrating. You're too keyed up. You go out now as the Green Hornet and you're going to make a mistake. Take a wrong step. Maybe meet up with somebody who's _not _ a lousy shot and end up with a bullet in the head or the heart this time. Go home. Relax. Play with John and Mary. Take them to the movies like you mentioned. Don't go out. If this case was meant to be cracked, you'll do it. But not this way."

Britt's dead serious face, nearly a mask of its usual self, dissolved. His arms fell apart and he nodded. "Alright."

"Alright? You're actually listening to me?"

A flash of a tired smile. "Yes. I'm actually listening to you."

"Well, well."

"But."

Britt held up a finger to make a point. "The minute I get something good and solid, I'm going."

Scanlon shrugged. "And I won't stop you. I want to know the truth as much as you do."

Casey knocked lightly. "Everything okay?"

She came in and leaned on the door to close it. Scanlon went to Britt's desk and sat on the edge. "I dunno." he said wearily. "Britt's listening to my reasoning far too easily….."

Casey grinned. "Oh, really?"

Britt made a face and collapsed in his desk chair. "Very funny."

Casey moved from the door to stand next to Scanlon, who'd turned around to Britt.

"Seriously. Are you better now? Half the City Room didn't know if they should run or hunker down when you first came in. I didn't know what to do myself. Poor Mike thought he was seeing things!"

Britt played with a pencil between his fingers. His eyes focused on nothing in particular on his desk. When he spoke, it sounded as if it was a chore to do so.

"I'm not going to have a meltdown. Don't worry. Just that cold hard feeling of helplessness starting to creep in again…."

He tossed the pencil down before he snapped it. Doing so seemed to bring him out of it and he slapped the desk top with his hand. "Well."

Scanlon's brow furrowed. Just because Britt said he wouldn't, didn't mean he couldn't dupe him and go out anyway. A preoccupied Britt with a feeling of helplessness he so despised made for a yearning for the Hornet fedora and gas gun. He quickly changed the subject.

"Britt, uh. Did you tell Ms. Case about last night?"

"…Last night? Oh! No."

Casey straightened and regarded Britt's sheepish expression "Last night? What happened last night? _You _told me it was 'just dinner'."

Britt blinked then looked to Scanlon. "See? Now I know why I didn't mention it!"

"Mention what!"

Britt sighed through his nose. "John had an explosion and Mary started talking again."

Now it was Casey's turn to blink and look sheepish. "Oh. …Why didn't you say that in the first place? What happened, tell me. How's Mary? Is she okay? John?"

" John…you know how odd he was acting yesterday. Well, it finally imploded on him. I never heard such a colorful array of words from a kid his age. All of it directed at Crystal."

Casey covered her mouth. "Really?" she asked through her fingers.

"Yes, really. When it was all over, poor Mary was wailing like a banshee. …It was like she snapped too. From a zombie to wide awake and aware."

Casey lowered her hand. "Oh. The poor things. How were they today?"

"Better. They were prepared for me to kick them out, though. That says something about how they were treated before, doesn't it?"

He tapped his desk and stood. "I suppose I should go back. I told them we'd go to the movies."

Scanlon went with him to the door.

"Oh. Britt. You didn't tell her what John _said _to Ms. Monahan."

Britt scowled. "Frank…!"

"Well, don't you think she should know?"

"Why don't you tell her, if you're so anxious for her to know?"

Scanlon put his hands up in mock surrender. "Oh no. This is between you two. You _four_, really. I'm staying out of it! Talk to you later."

He left, leaving Britt standing in his doorway, staring after him.

"Britt?"

He glanced back to Casey. A questioning look on her face…she wasn't demanding, just curious. He attracted all kinds, he knew that. But Casey had been a kind and gentle constant that he'd, at times, taken for granted. Britt had given her a dangerous secret because he knew she'd never hurt him.

But that wasn't for certain when it came to Casey's end of the deal-plenty of enemies had noticed his-or more aptly, the Green Hornet's- soft spot for her and used it. Usually giving Casey the worst of it. He hated himself for putting her in those situations but Britt would always, _always, _save her. Protect her. It was an automatic.

He faced her. "What Frank was so _kind _to bring up was…um, John's main tirade against Crystal. He, um, in so many colorful words, told her to get out and stay out. Because it's obvious I love you. Not her."

Casey's face flushed, and her hands didn't seem to know where to go. She clasped them together and held her head up high. "Oh." Was all she could muster. They held each others eyes for the longest time before he looked away.

"I better get back."

"You should. I'll call you if anything more comes up."

When he had gone, she allowed herself to breath. Her heart hammered in her chest.

_ Because it's obvious I love you, not her. Because it was _obvious_. _Words never sounded so dangerously sweet.

* * *

><p>"You see her?"<p>

"N-no. Sh-she ha-asn't come out yet."

They'd borrowed the dock foreman's car and parked themselves at the mouth of the shopping district. When they'd first arrived, there had been confusion over whether or not they'd missed Crystal Monahan. A confidante of theirs came over and assured them the woman was far from leaving. He'd pointed out her tank of a Thunderbird and that was that. Their eyes had been glued to it since.

Rat squirmed in the passenger's seat. His fingers drummed on dash, his mouth twitched. He sat on his other hand to keep it from jumping too.

"Jesus, how much stuff could you possibly buy in one day?" Jack murmured, sitting forward in his seat.

"A-a-a lot, wh-when you got th-the money t-to spend."

Jack grunted. They had her, now. So it didn't matter how much she shopped and spent. When she was finished, they'd be there to nab her.

The minutes began to drag. Both shifted in their seats. Another hour. Another hour and a half….

"…Is that her?"

Rat squinted. His eyes brightened and he pointed a trembling hand out the windshield .

"It-it's h-her! J-Jack! It's her!"

Jack wordlessly slipped out of the car and motioned for Rat to take the driver's seat.

"You follow. Got it?"

Rat nodded.

Jack walked down the street, sticking close to parked cars and occasionally taking the sidewalk, all to make sure he'd have complete surprise. She jumped when his hand grabbed her elbow. Spun around to look. Imperiously staring him down.

She was beautiful, in that impossibly real sort of way. A perfectly imperfect specimen of wealth, power and allure.

"Yes? I don't believe I know you. Please let g-."

He pulled her closer. She stiffened and resisted. Went to scream. But the moment she felt the bite of a knife against her stomach, she stopped. Jack grinned.

"Yeah. That's how it's going to work. Now you're going to open your car door and slide in. I'm driving. Nice and easy. I'm pretty good with this knife. Get me?"

She blanched and her hand fumbled to reach behind her and find the door handle. She slid over to the passenger seat. The knife disappeared up his jacket's sleeve, at his disposal with just a flick of the wrist. Crystal stared at him as he started the car and drove toward the docks.

Jack checked the rearview window. Rat tagged behind.

* * *

><p>It had been one of those light-hearted romps-total kiddie fare both of them could enjoy even though John scoffed at some parts and made fun at others. Mary, however, had had the biggest smile on her face. It was all Britt could have wanted from her. When they arrived back at the apartment after eating lunch out, it was nearly four in the afternoon. John and Mary scampered off to their room to read more Lone Ranger (now that Mary could <em>actually <em>enjoy them) while Britt tried to find Kato.

"Kato? Where are you?"

The sudden tell-tale click of the lift mechanism self-activating had him turning to see the fire place ascending and Kato descending. He hopped off the lift and went to the bookcase to shove the key books back in place.

"I was checking the Black Beauty. I saw you come in the front and waited for the children to go to their room. _You _have a problem."

"I do?"

"Mmm-hmm." Kato went to Britt's desk to find the scrap of paper. Held it out for him to read.

_Crystal, Britt. Urgent. Come ASAP._

_ "_She called soon after you all left for the movies. She gave me this message and hung up. She sounded very upset."

That had been hours earlier…and if it was about last night, well. What could he say expect he was sorry?

"Okay. I'll go."

* * *

><p>Her luxury apartment was maintained by her father year-round. So Daddy's little girl could go home whenever she wanted since California <em>only <em> offered so much. He'd been there plenty of times before, but only once this recent trip back. The top floor commanded a beautiful view of the city…and the biggest apartment.

Britt knocked, rang the buzzer. Knocked again.

"Crystal?"

He tried the door. Open. He heard muffled crying from inside. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he prepared himself. Shoved the door open, but stayed on the threshold. No sign of Crystal or that nanny of hers. The crying came from the couch. He moved toward it, around it. Found Bridgett curled up in a ball.

"Bridgett?" He whispered, smoothing the red curls of her face. She blinked and sniffled, making room for him to sit. He noticed three small travel bags packed and ready at the other end of the couch.

"What happened?"

She lifted her head and wiped her nose. "I do-don't _know!_ Sh-she doesn't wa-_want me anymore more!" _

The sobs renewed and she buried herself further into the cushion. Britt grabbed her around the middle and pulled her into him. Rubbing her back and quietly shushing her.

"I'm sure that's not true."

She snuffled in his ear and pressed her forehead into his shoulder. "_Yes, it is! Sh-she t-told me!"_

Britt narrowed his eyes. He patted the top of her head.

"Okay…okay…" he whispered soothingly. "Bridgett?"

She only sobbed more. "Bridgett, honey. Listen to me."

She sniffled and picked up her head an inch. He pulled her hair away from her face again and gently put it behind her ears. Those large green eyes, so red and watery, gazed blearily up at him. The freckles seemed larger and bolder on her pale skin.

"I'll talk to Crystal about this, okay? Is she here?"

"Um…y-yes. In there." She pointed shakily toward the master bedroom. Its door was half open.

"Okay. Dry your eyes. I'll be right back." Britt put her on the couch, briefly tapping her chin with a reassuring smile. She tried to smile back but it was a sloppy, wavering attempt.

He could only go so far as immediately inside before the door's bottom caught on a clothing box. In fact, several of these clothing boxes were scattered about. And hat boxes and shoe boxes and suitcases and clothes….. The bed was completely covered, Crystal's closets were open and pulled apart. Makeup and jewelry strewn about her dresser, in varied states of packing. The light was on in the attached master bathroom. Movement could be heard.

He approached slowly. "Crystal? It's Britt."

The movement stopped. A shadow moved toward the door and Crystal stood staring at him. He couldn't quite believe his eyes. The normally cool, collected, well-manicured, well-groomed, and well-dressed heiress was a complete mess. Hair pulled from bobby-pins, make-up smeared, clothes torn and dirty. Her eyes were wild and she was visibly shaking.

"So." she hissed. "You finally made it."

Britt swallowed. "Crystal…what happened?"

"HA!" she spat out and shoved past him to get to her dresser. "What happened? Well!"

She pulled several jewelry boxes off her dresser and tossed them on the bed. "I'll tell you, Britt Reid. _The most eligible bachelor in the city, the esteemed head of the Daily Sentinel…my dear, dear old friend…."_

She turned suddenly and slapped him hard across the face.

"_That happened! _I was slapped across the face. Completely hurt and stunned just as you are right now. _You _are the dirtiest, most rotten piece of humanity I've ever _met! _Lying, smoothing talking _filth!"_

Britt didn't know what to do. He was, quite honestly, dumbfounded. His cheek stung and his ears rang-but he didn't have a damn clue as to what the hell she was screaming about!

"So you changed-I can see _that! _ Street urchins and rowdy newspaper men! A pet _secretary _to sit in your lap and take _dictation on your knee_…!"

Britt nearly hit her for that. His hand curled and his jaw tightened but he didn't move.

"But, _never…_did I think you'd sink _so low_ as you did today! _Kidnapping? Harassment? Near death experiences? _Ohhhhhh, no! I'm standing for that! Not in a million years!"

She slammed a suitcase shut and snapped the latches.

"You're finished?" Britt finally managed. "Because I have…_no idea_ what you're talking about. I came here…because Kato took a message. From you. Saying that I needed to get over here as fast as I can. _Nothing more."_

_ "_Now…I get here and the door's open. Poor Bridgett is on the couch, _crying her heart out, _because she's under the impression you're sending her back. _Then-_I find you in here, room totally trashed, looking just as much of a mess. Out of the _blue, _you _slap _me…_insult _me and my friends…and then _accuse_ me of _kidnapping and assault?"_

He threw up his hands. "How am I suppose to react? What do you want me to say besides asking to _maybe _clue me in?"

She regarded him, tight-lipped, hard-jawed and clenched-fists. "You don't know, hmm?"

She dropped her chin and sucked in a breath. "Ooookaaayyy." she breathed. "I will. I was shopping early this morning when a _friend_ of yours accosted me at knife point and forced me to ride with him to the docks. I was _bound _and _briefly gagged. _This man would only say this _and I quote_: 'I'm doing this as a favor for your _Mr._ _Britt Reid. _If the man don't 'lay off' the kids' story, I'll be handin' out more favors. _End quote."_

She narrowed her eyes at him. "So. _Mr. Britt Reid. _I am leaving. This city isn't my old home town anymore and the people aren't my friends."

She turned back to flip open the next suitcase on the bed but stopped short and faced him again. Her tone was chillingly cruel: "Also…I _am _sending Bridgett back. The nanny has already been let go. I obviously can't take the girl with me nor would I _want _to. I have no such philanthropic whims as you do. If it were up to me, the likes of her and your two monsters would be where they belong: _in the gutter!"_

Suddenly, it wasn't Britt standing there. The Green Hornet had come, right down to the ice-cold eyes and the hard authoritative voice.

"I bet." he threw at her. He spun and wrenched the door open, just stopping it from bouncing off the wall.

"Just a side note _to your little tantrum! _You're lucky I was raised a gentleman because if I hadn't, I would have slapped you right across the face for saying such _disgusting _things about Casey. For calling my friends _any _names besides their own!"

"Oh, _really?"_

_ "_Yes, 'oh, really'!" His voice chilled even further. "And isn't it _interesting _how _perceptive _children are to the adults around them?"

She caught the meaning and balled up her fists. Ran after Britt as he went back the living room to gather Bridgett and her things. The poor child buried herself against Britt's chest, sick of the yelling and screaming; finding the only comfort in the warmth of his body.

"Just a minute!" Crystal grabbed Britt's arm to stop him from leaving.

"You're forgetting one little _key _detail! That oh-so-'_forgettable' _kiss we shared? Don't _tell_ me you didn't mean that!"

He appraised in her away his father would have been mighty disappointed with: as a thing. An object. Not at all a human being, not at all a woman.

"You know, Crystal? There are times when I find it in myself to live up to that playboy name of mine. Have a nice flight."

The door closed in her face.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

The front door opened and shut loudly. Britt must be home. John tossed his book down and stood to look. He froze at the sight of his face and a definitely rattled Bridgett in his arms. Her three bags were at his feet. Kato looked between them, Britt and Bridgett before nodding and taking the bags to their room. John let him pass.

"Kato, what happened? Why's Bridgett here?"

"I don't know, John. By the look on Britt's face, I'd say it can't be good."

Mary sat up from her nap and rubbed her eyes. She saw Bridgett standing in the doorway, Britt behind her. She smiled and hopped off the bed to give her friend a hug.

"Bridgett is going to be staying with us for the rest of the week. Bridgett?"

She looked up at him. "Why don't you and Mary take out some of those coloring books of yours? I need to talk to John."

"Okay."

Bridgett went to her bags and unzipped one of them. Both girls bent to retrieve the crayons and coloring books. Kato closed to door behind them as he, Britt and John went to the living room. This was beginning to scare John. It was the look on Britt's face-a complex mix of anger, dismay, frustration. Determination.

"What...what is it you want to talk about?"

"Sit down."

Even Britt's voice wasn't his own. He tried to keep it light, friendly…but there was an edge. A hard, biting edge.

He slowly sat down on the couch. Britt paused a moment before joining him. Kato stood off to the side, silently watching, listening. Britt leveled a paralyzing gaze at the boy, holding his gaze in a way that John wouldn't dare to break it.

"John."

He went cold.

"I need the truth. All of it."

The truth. Oh no. His eyes fluttered shut. His shoulders were shook slightly.

"John, look at me! You've been hiding something from us since the night you got here. Whatever it is, it's been a terrible weight to carry. You lost it last night because of it. Let it go! Tell me!"

He shook his head vehemently. "No."

"John, I _know _some of it, now. Crystal was kidnapped at knife point earlier this morning by a man who forced her to go to the docks. She was told it was a _favor _to _me_, that if I didn't stop trying to push your case in the paper, more would get the same. Even earlier than that, I went to the woman who called last night. She wouldn't talk to me about you two-someone had _hurt _her to make sure she wouldn't. I couldn't even _get _in the apartment through the front because a group of men stopped me. Through all this…there is one name that I _know _means something to you. That's behind _everything_: Jack."

John felt the tears run down his face. "No!" he choked out again.

"C'mon, John. Who is Jack? What is he to you? What has he done to you and Mary? You have to tell me! That's the only way I can stop all this."

Eyes closed again, tears squeezed out. Falling to his shirt front. He could tell him. Wanted to. But the sight of the gun, the sound of it firing. His mother's blood.

" He'll kill you. I can't, I can't! Nobody else should die because of _me_!"

Britt watched him shake and shudder and finally pulled him into an embrace. He held him for the longest time, just letting him cry.

"John," he finally spoke. The boy felt his voice vibrate through the man's body. "No one is going to die, no one is going to get hurt. Not you or Mary. I won't let that happen. It's time to let it go. Tell me."

Britt felt him take a breath and let it out.

"Okay. Okay, I'll tell you everything."

* * *

><p>Their father had been a Korean War veteran. Infantryman. When the war ended in July of 1953, he had been shipped back to Germany, where he stayed until January of 1954. He was then sent back Stateside, to his young fiancé. They married that summer, and had their first child, John, in April of 1955. Their life was, for the most part, agreeable. She worked at several department stories as a counter girl, he worked as truck driver for a local shipping company. As such, he was gone for long periods of time, leaving her to take care of their son. This eventually put a strain on the marriage. She urged him to look for another job. Anything but truck driver.<p>

He begrudgingly gave it up and was able to land a stock clerking position for the same company. At a lower pay grade. Between her minimum wage jobs and his $9.00 an hour, they were just managing. Regardless of the growing strains in the relationship, they had another child in the spring of 1960. A little baby girl, named Mary. Perhaps they had hoped the new baby would bring them together again. If that was the case, it failed. A year later they separated, the husband eventually moving out West. Now a single mother of two, she worked three jobs to stay afloat- just scraping in enough to keep all three heads above water.

Boyfriends came and went. Most started out nice enough but left soon pretty quickly. The mother was drinking by now, a result of her choice in men and current state of affairs. John had stopped attending school after the third grade-he knew how to read and write, that's all his mother could afford for him. They'd stopped going to the library when Mary was still a little baby, but both put the time in to teach her to read and write as best they knew how. Then Jack came along. Big, strong, intimidating but smart. Clever. He might have been a dock worker, but he wanted better things from life.

The mother saw him as the key out of the daily struggle to survive. His dock pay was more than she'd seen in a long time. At first, he treated her with kindness. Sympathy. Seemed to be a role model for her boy and a gentle male presence for her small daughter. Then the possessiveness, the jealousy, the berating and belittling started. He wouldn't pay for the children to go back to school, he stopped helping pay the bills. Rather, he drank and played cards more and worked far less. Their small apartment became Poker Night central, where the men played cards and the woman and kids stayed away.

John developed quite an attitude during this. He ran off to the school, not daring to enter but sticking around the playground to pick fights. He'd run the streets, doing the same. When their mother worked, he'd be forced to stay in and watch his sister for hours on end while Jack was off somewhere doing something, hopefully working.

Then it got physical. Their mother lost one of her jobs because she was so tired from the other two, she'd hardly ever made it in on time. Jack exploded, calling her names John had never heard before, even from the other boyfriends. He'd soon learned them quite well. Then he hit her. Hard. Bloodied her nose and lip. John stood up to him and that would be the first time he was struck.

It happened time and again until that night. The rain pounding the window, thunder and lightening battering the sky. She had told John it was the end of it. She was going to kick Jack out and they would be getting out of there. Believe it or not she had some money tucked away. Enough for three tickets out on the night bus.

The fight, the overturned furniture, the holes in the wall. The gun. He killed her because she finally said no. She had finally become her own woman, for the sake of her children. She died for that reason and that reason alone.

Her name was Molly Clarkson, her son John Clarkson age 11 and her daughter Mary Clarkson age 6. They'd run through the rain that night. Trying to get away from their mother's lifeless body, and the gun of her killer, John Rickert. Now John and Mary Clarkson were back where they started, listening to the rain hit the windows as Jack Rickert lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike.

John would be damned if he let the man get the chance.

* * *

><p>"Well." Margaret Carter sat back in her office chair. "That, Mr. Reid, is a quite a story."<p>

"It was a long time coming. Something was eating him raw but he wouldn't let it go. Even after he'd finally snapped, it was like pulling teeth to get it out of him."

"Yes. Well. We will be notifying their father out in Arizona. Now that we have names and ages, we might be able to get them into a stable home. Before that can happen, however, what is our next move in regard to this Jack Rickert situation?"

From outside of the Orphanage, a distant rumble of thunder growled.

District Attorney Frank Scanlon jumped into the conversation.

"That would be my department, Mrs. Carter. I'm meeting with the Chief of Police once we're done here. I'll have him order a thorough search of docks and surrounding areas. There will be an increased police presence in and around Jack Rickert's neighborhood and street. Last but not least, he's got a warrant on him for questioning in the disappearance and probable homicide of Molly Clarkson."

"From the way Mr. Reid tells it, the man's not an idiot. He's managed to get away with it this far. What makes you think he's not prepared to run?"

Britt Reid looked to Scanlon and stood. "Because, Mr. Carter, I have the last two people who can really pin him with murder. He won't go down without a fight to get to them. That's what I'm counting on. "

* * *

><p>Tossing and turning. Thrashing and whimpering. The bedside light finally popped on. John sat panting, sweat and tears mixing on his face. He looked to his sister, almost on the bed's edge, fast asleep. Bridgett was on the floor beside the bed. Evidently pulling a blanket and pillow to the carpet was better than sleeping next to somebody with nightmares.<p>

As he saw it, he had one option left: get to Jack before Jack do anymore harm. What he would do once he found Jack, he wasn't sure. Offer himself up? Honestly, John was the only way who really saw anything. Mary had been in their room during the scuffle. She only heard it…that in of itself was enough but, still. Jack only needed John. If he could give them man what he wanted, would that spare Britt and Kato?

He untangled himself from the sheets and carefully stepped over Bridgett to find clothes. Pulling on jeans, sneakers and t-shirt and jacket, he moved toward the door. Opened it a crack. The slight change in light, however, was enough to wake Bridgett and Mary.

"…John? What are you doing? It's not morning yet." Bridgett yawned. He quickly shut the door and went to stand over her.

"Then go back to sleep."

"Shouldn't _you?"_

He scowled, not in the mood for an argument. He caught Mary looking at him.

"Mary," he spoke softly. "Mary, I have to go."

"Go? Go where?" Bridgett asked.

He ignored her, speaking for his sister only. "I'm going to talk to Jack. I'm going to fix this so he'll go away. You, Britt…Kato, Casey, everybody will be safe."

Her chin quivered. "No."

He grabbed her and pulled her into him. "Yes, Mare. It's for the best."

"John, no!"

He held her at arms length, his own lower lip beginning to jut out. "Don't cry, I'll start crying! Look, Britt can't know until morning. Kato'll be up soon but he can't know either.

He shot a look to Bridgett. "You hear that, Bridgett? Not a word."

Bridgett went to him, pleading. "…You can't go! It's pouring out! Besides, you'll get into trouble!"

"We'll all be in worse trouble if I don't! You don't understand it, but get this: Britt can't know!"

He looked back to his sister and crushed her against him on for the last time. He kissed the hair against her neck. "I love you, Mare. That's why I gotta do this."

Then he was gone, practicing the perfected art of slipping out of an apartment without a sound.

"Mary, come back! You can't leave too!"

She didn't run far, only to Britt's bedroom. Knocking as hard as her little fist could. It wasn't hard enough. With red knuckles, she sank down in front of the door, content to stay there, in tears, until Britt got up. She didn't know Kato getting up 'soon' meant two hours from then. Neither did Bridgett, who made her go to the couch while she took up guard in a comfy chair.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, between ducking for cover where possible from heavier downburst and skirting the attentions of passing police cruisers, John stood in front of his old apartment. Shivering, hungry, second thoughts haunting his mind. Now or never. Besides, it was dry in there.<p>

It was as dismal as he remembered: chipped paint, scuffed wood, holey carpets. He looked around, up the stairs. He almost turned around, the feelings of foreboding danger so strong, but he refused to go now. To come so far and not end this couldn't happen. He wiped his shoes on the runner and whipped his dripping hair out of his face. Up the stairs, sneezing outside the first apartment door as he passed. Before he could get to the second flight of stairs, a soft sweeping sound behind him turned him about.

"My God. John! What are you doing here?"

"Mrs. White!"

He went to her and hugged the woman tightly. She was the one who got hurt for trying to help them. He remembered Britt mentioning it and now that he saw her in-person, there was no denying it. Though her shawl hid some, it hardly covered the rest. To see another good soul beaten down for being on their side strengthened a wavering resolve to finish this.

"Mrs. White, I'm sorry."

"No, my boy. You have nothing to be sorry about. Now get inside before you catch a cold!"

He stepped back from her. "N-no. I can't. I-"

He stopped when he heard a stair creak. Looked to see George, Jack's dock partner, staring at him in disbelief. Mrs. White tried to pull the boy inside but he wouldn't budge, stuck in a staring contest with the dock worker. John finally looked to her and pried her hands from his arm. He held them and smiled kindly.

"It's okay, Mrs. White. Go back inside, now."

He gently moved her backwards and shut the door. George had come to the landing now, just feet from him. He towered over the boy. Without a crack in his voice, he squared his shoulders and simply said, "Take me to Jack."

* * *

><p>Kato couldn't quite believe it. For the <em>second time this week,<em> he wasn't the first up! Granted these two were still asleep but…weren't children suppose to _fight _getting up and going to bed early?

He went to the chair first. Bridgett slept peacefully. Then to Mary, curled up in a ball on the couch. Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she darted a look to Kato. He straightened at the sight of fear in her eyes. She reached up at him. Kato wouldn't call himself a natural with kids but with these two, he sure felt like one. Without hesitation, he picked her up easily.

She nestled her head on his collarbone then whispered in his ear: "John gone to Jack!"

Kato half-looked at her, not sure he'd heard correctly. Then she repeated it: "John gone to Jack!". It clicked and he move swiftly to the children's room. Turning the lights on one-handed, he stared. John _had _gone!

He turned and marched back to the couch to deposit Mary before going to Britt's room. He knocked loudly, then went in, closing the door part way. Moments later, a ruffled Britt strode from his room to John's. He stared too. Spun around to Kato. The man looked wordlessly to Mary. Britt went to her.

She wouldn't speak. It was up to Bridgett.

"Bridgett? Bridgett, sweetie. Wake up."

His gentle shaking opened her eyes. She blinked and smiled sleepily.

"Must be morning, huh?"

That jogged her memory and stopped any and all stretching. "Oh no." she said flatly and shot a look to Britt. To Kato, to the surrounding room. _A dimly lit room stuck in the pre-morning shadows. _

Her gaze darted back to Britt. "He told us not to tell!" she blurted.

Britt nodded. "I understand. But John didn't know what he as doing. I've got to help him, Bridgett. Do you know where he was going? Did he mention the name 'Jack' at all?"

She didn't like pressure situations. Didn't like adults questioning her because she always managed to say the wrong thing! But she liked John, even if he was short with her and she definitely liked Mary. Bridgett swallowed.

"Yes. John mentioned that name. To Mary. He said he was going to talk to Jack. So he could fix everything and have Jack go away. So you and Kato and Casey would be safe."

"Okay, Bridgett. Then what did he do?"

She shrugged uncomfortably. "Then he said, when I tried to stop him, that I didn't understand and we'd all be in worse shape if he didn't go. Then he…hugged and kissed Mary and left. That's all! I'm…I'm not in trouble, am I? I _did_ try to stop him!"

Britt patted her head and straightened. "No. You're not in trouble, don't worry. However, I think it's time the two of you went back to bed, huh?"

Bridgett nodded and sniffled. She slid off the chair and went to Mary. They walked arm and arm back to the bed room. Kato followed to make sure they were in bed. He turned to Britt and saw the hardened look on his face. The ice-covered glare. The clench jaw.

"Britt…." he began.

"No. No, don't. I'm fine. It's John that's not. I told him no one would get hurt. I meant it. We have to find him, Kato. Before it's too late."

* * *

><p>He sat, blindfolded, in the back of a pick-up. One without a suspension, sprung springs in the seats, questionable breaks and reeking of cigar smoke. He had tried to get a sense of how many times they'd turned since leaving the apartment but had stopped a long time ago. Winced at the sound of his stomach gurgling in the silence of the cab.<p>

He'd heard the men arguing about blindfolding him. The one said John was dead anyway, so why bother? George countered with in the _off-chance _Jack didn't kill him right away and in the _off-chance _he got away, they'd be in a tough spot, wouldn't they?

So he was blindfolded. George sat beside him while the other man-John remembered his name was Karl, now-drove. That was where the cigar smoke came from. He tilted his head to the side when he felt the truck slowing. The brakes squeaked and groaned. The engine was killed, sputtering its final turn. John felt the side door farthest from him open. George got out, then pulled him out by the arm pits. He stumbled on the uneven, evidently gravel-covered ground.

"C'mon, walk."

He was pushed to get going, calloused hands on his arms to make sure he didn't run. John sniffed the air: fresh, piney. Warm with a hint of pre-fall coolness. At least the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Pulled to a stop, a rusty-hinged door was yanked open and the three entered a structure. Wooden by the way John's feet felt and sounded. Musty, old.

"Okay. Pull it off."

John recognized that voice. Stiffened. Flinched as the blindfold was pulled away. Blinked to adjust his eyes. A cabin in the woods. Rustic, with basic but old appliances, rickety cots and a stone fireplace. A small, in-door bathroom at the far end, while the kitchen and bedroom morphed into one. In the center stood Jack Rickert.

Biceps bulged under a light windbreaker. Boots and jeans. Somewhere he had that knife of his and probably the gun. The same one he'd use to kill before.

A smirk on his lips and a satisfied look in his eye.

"Hello, John. Long time no see."


	9. Chapter 9

_ Chapter 9_

"Hello John. Long time, no see."

He swallowed hard because he felt like throwing up. Maybe this _was _a bad idea.

"I didn't think it would be this easy." Jack came forward, dwarfing him. "Either you've got a death wish or you're crazy. Which one is it?"

_I'm beginning to think both. Here goes._

"I want to make a deal, Jack."

Eyebrows rose and the man laughed in his face. "A deal?"

"Yeah. A deal: me for everyone else. Mary didn't see anything, she was in our room. She's no good to you. Britt Reid didn't know the whole story until I told him yesterday. He wouldn't have known if you hadn't stuck around this long and made a scene with that Monahan broad. Not that I mind, she was a pain.

"But I'm the _only _one who _saw _anything; who could make any serious trouble for you. Do whatever you want to me but leave the rest alone. After you've done…whatever it is you're going to do, you have to leave-this city, this state, the country. The whole bit. Got it?"

Jack regarded him, processing whether the boy was out of his mind or for real, before glancing to Karl and George. The first stood at the door, the other behind John. They saw him point his chin outside and nodded, leaving.

The door clicked shut. And locked. Gravel crunched under their boots as they went to the truck. Its engine choked to life. Sputtered down the long drive and out of earshot. John's heart pounded in his ears and sweat formed on his brow.

They were alone.

Absolutely alone.

Jack chuckled and unzipped his jacket, revealing his gun tucked in the front of his jeans. He knelt down on John's level and sneered. "You're right, buddy boy. You're the _only_ one who saw anything. You could make waaaay too much trouble-already have. Cops on my tail, nosing around the docks, the apartment. Asking too many questions. So's your friend, Reid . He's a pain in my ass, sure, but _nothing _compared to _you_."

Their noses were touching now. Jack's eyes blazed and his voice was a dangerous whisper.

"No. Deal."

John went icy. This _was _a really, really bad idea. What the hell had he been thinking? Backing away, slowly as possible, until Jack lunged. John spun and slammed against the door, tugging and pulling frantically. A vice-grip of a hand clamped down on his shoulder, yanking backwards. Colliding with the table and entangled with chair legs, John was unable to crawl away. Jack grabbed him by the shirtfront and pulled him off his feet. They dangled several inches off the floor. He tried to bite at Jack's hands but failed.

"You came here on your own, Johnny boy. You're _stuck_! And it's your own damn fault, so you better just relax. It's going to be a long night!"

He dropped him in a chair, nearly toppling it over with the force of John's falling body. The boy tried to slip off but Jack pushed him back. The gun was in his hand, but held by the barrel. The grip came down hard on John's temple. He was out cold before the rest of his body even slumped.

Jack shoved the gun back in his belt and went to the shelves behind the cot to grab a coil of rope.

* * *

><p>"I <em>refuse<em> to believe our police force is _that_ inept, Frank!"

Britt paced his office in frustrated anger. Scanlon was getting tired of watching him make a rut in the rug. It was as tiring as trying to convince the man everybody was doing their best.

"Inept? They managed to shoot you, didn't they? I don't call _that _ineptitude_."_

_ "Funny. _What more could they have? Mrs. White called them and said she _saw _John at the apartment. That two of Jack Rickert's men blindfolded him and put him in an old truck. There has to be something at that apartment, clue-wise!"

Scanlon shook his head. "Nothing. He's making sure his men are just as careful as he is. They're trying, Britt. We've got four cars sitting on the apartment, four more cruising the docks and the rest of the force on normal patrol with standing orders to be on the lookout for John or Jack or any of his people. We know of at least three from Mrs. White: Karl Stoke, George Richardson and a man they call Dirty Rat. Believe me, Britt, the police understand the urgency."

Britt ignored his consolations. He'd heard them all morning and afternoon. All he could think of was John in the hands of a cruel killer. Could he already be dead, his body dumped somewhere? Britt stopped pacing and pushed the heals of his hands into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Frank. I know everybody is trying. It's just that I don't think I can take much more of this standing around."

"You don't know where they went either, Britt. Besides, going to the docks or the apartment as the Hornet is playing with fire. All those police hanging around? C'mon!"

"…Are you sure there's still four cars on the docks? There hasn't been a sighting there. The apartment, yes. Wouldn't they move more eyes to the hottest of the two areas?"

Scanlon paused at this. "I…don't know. I told the Chief to inform me on any changes in the search pattern."

"Why don't you call him and make sure?"

He nodded and went to Britt's phone. Dialing and then waiting. After getting through the Chief of Police's secretary to the Chief himself, it was quick and brief. When he hung up, the DA looked annoyed.

"He '_forgot' _to call me. The four cars for the docks have been moved up to a more routine patrol pattern. He assures me they're still watching that area though."

Britt rapped his knuckles on his desk in triumph. Scanlon saw his face morph under renewed confidence.

"Uh-oh. You've got that look on your face. What are you thinking?"

"It's perfect. I don't know where John or Jack are, okay. But I've got an idea where his men might be: where the cops _aren't_."

"The docks?"

"Exactly."

"But what about John and Jack? What if…what if he's done something to the boy already?"

Britt shook his head vehemently. "No. No, I'm not going to think like that. I can't. Besides, Mrs. Carter said it herself: Jack's smart. He might want John out of the picture but he's got to think in terms of the future. How's he going to get out of here under police pressure? That takes money, more contacts, guarantees of freedom in some form or another."

"You're talking about ransom. There's been no ransom calls to the police or orphanage. Or you obviously."

"Not yet, Frank. Not yet. I know how guys like this Jack think. He knows how hot it's getting. Trust me, he's thinking in terms of getaway now."

Britt paused, staring at his desk; formulating a quick resemblance of a plan. He suddenly reached out and buzzed Casey to him.

"Yes, Britt?"

"Casey, can you stay at the apartment tonight?"

"…Of course. Any particular reason why?"

"I need you to watch Bridgett and Mary."

She understood everything just from that. "Just let me go pack an overnight bag."

Casey nodded a goodbye to the district attorney and left to grab her purse.

Britt went to follow her but Scanlon stopped him. "I know…how much you want this guy. Only don't take too much payment, okay? Then I'll have to go after the Green Hornet for real and I don't want to do that."

Britt's tight smile wasn't reassuring, but his words were. "I wouldn't want that, either. I'll call you."

"I'll be waiting. Good luck."

* * *

><p>"You sure it's okay to talk on this thing?"<p>

"I told you, if the cops are tappin' any line there, it'll be the main one in the foreman's office. Not some old thing ya hooked up yourself."

"Yeah, well. Okay. I mean, everything _is _quiet on our end, Jack. Few cop cars buzzing here and there; the last we heard the majority was up at the apartment so…none of us have been back there.

"Good. What about Mrs. White?"

George shrugged. "Like I said, I haven't been back up there. Besides, what kind of information could she give? She don't know nothing."

He heard his friend sigh into the phone. "Yeah, yeah. Alright…."

Agitated.

"Hey, uh. You okay up there, Jack?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I don't know. The kid any trouble?"

"Nah. I gave him a crack to the head after you all left earlier. Hasn't really come to yet."

"…Oh. I was kinda figuring you'd have finished him off by now. That's why I was askin'."

Jack sighed into the phone again. "Look. I know what I'm doing. I got my reasons for not killing him and they all spell one word: money."

George looked around the small shack he and the other were huddled in. At the far end of the dock with an appearance that spelled condemnation, the police had searched it once or twice when they weren't there and that was that. Cold, cramped…buckets positioned on the floor in a strategic layout to catch the leaks. He was pretty sure the surroundings weren't the thing making him uncomfortable, though. He leaned into the phone and lowered his voice.

"Look, man. This Britt Reid guy ain't gonna play around. You've pissed off somebody big in town. Don't start that ransom crap. Too much can go wrong! Just…get it over with already! That's…that's why I brought him up there in the first place!"

"What? You getting scared, Georgy?"

"No! I'm as knee-deep in this as you are. _We all are._ I'd rather have it that way than up to our _necks_, wouldn't you?"

"Oh you would, huh? _I'm _heading this show-_my _plans, _my _rules. I got people to pay off, I gotta figure out where the hell I'm going after this is all over! _That _takes money, my friend. And the last time I checked, you all hadn't scraped enough together to buy a _toothbrush_, for Pete's sake. So, _shut up _and let me do this, okay?"

No use arguing. "…What ever you say, Jack."

* * *

><p>Jack slammed the phone down, silently fuming. Pushing his chair back, he walked the cabin before opening the door for air. The twilight was cool, the rain steady. Off in the distance though, a faint rumble of thunder. Jack breathed deeply before closing the door and looking back at John. Tied expertly to the same chair he'd been thrown in, the boy's head hung low, the skin over his left eye gashed open. Blood had dripped downward and dried. Some had caked on his bangs, and droplets on his jacket and jeans.<p>

Jack gave John's shoulder a rough push. His response was that of a limp rag doll. Jack sneered and sat at the table; leaned forward on his elbows.

Had to think. Had to think. Ransom was starting to look like a real possibility. Kicked himself for not thinking of it before. He'd been so hell bent on killing the kid, never even considered the next best thing: ransom _then _murder. Offer the kid up, alive, for, say, …2 million. _Then _kill and leave him at the designated drop-off site. Best of both worlds. He'd be out of the country before they even found the body. He hoped, anyways.

Glancing over to John again, Jack begrudgingly admitted the kid had more guts than he'd previously thought-more than his mother anyway. 'Course…he'd killed her for suddenly having enough to leave him. …Come to think of it, the kid was actually pretty smart. _Dumb_ for showing up like he did…but smart for trying to deal his way out like that. He'd even gave him ideas worth considering.

A small groan from the chair. The boy's head rolled and lolled as his body worked out the kinks of waking up. Crackled lips moved and a parched tongue tried to wet them. A cough and sniffle. Blurry vision and beady eyes blinking, trying to make sense of the surroundings.

Jack stood.

"Well, well."

Bent down over him, the boy leaning hard against the chair back but never once shrinking against his ties.

"Welcome back. Got some plans, Johnny. Care to hear 'em?"

* * *

><p>Casey eased out of the girls' room. She had settled them-Bridgett felt guilty about John and Mary had sunken into silence again. That was the second most heartbreaking result of this situation. John believing what he did was a necessity was the first.<p>

The only light on in the apartment was the small table-top lamp on Britt's desk. That and the intermittent flashes of lightening from outside. He was fully dressed in the Hornet outfit, save for his gloves. He spoke quietly into the phone. When he saw Casey waiting, he hung up. He stood, pulling himself to his full height. She saw then, why the Green Hornet scared so many. The solid body, the covered face, the unsettling aqua eyes. The sheer presence of him left even her hesitant to come forward.

But then again, she had something the rest didn't: the knowledge of the man behind that mask.

"That was Frank. John and Mary's father arrived from Arizona a few hours ago. He knows as much as the rest of us. Frank said he took it hard but…understands everything is being done that could be done, and that there's no reason to lose hope. My only wish is we're not too late to deliver…."

Casey put her hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't get discouraged. You know why, Britt? _You_…are the deciding factor in this entire thing. Mr. Scanlon couldn't have told him that…but when he told the father he shouldn't lose hope, it's because he has _faith _in _you_. Just as I do…just as Kato does."

Britt's hand covered hers and squeezed. "Vote of confidence taken and appreciated."

He grabbed his gloves and yanked them on.

"Are they asleep?"

"Getting there. Bridgett thinks it's her fault because she let John go and Mary…."

Her voice trailed off. Britt quietly walked to the bookcase.

"That's why I asked you here." His voice was rough. " You're the best thing for those two right now."

A small smile. "Vote of confidence taken and appreciated."

She watched him reach out to touch the first key to activating the lift system.

"Kato's fixing a smaller gas delivery system with diluted Hornet gas for if-_when-_we get John back. I…I don't know what a full adult dose of the gas would do and I don't want to. We should be back by morning, but don't bother to-."

"Britt, I'm sorry."

That slipped out even before she could stop herself. _Oops._

Britt stopped and snapped his head around to her.

"Sorry about what, Casey?"

So here it was: time for a mini leap of faith.

"I'm sorry about Crystal. If it…if it was at all about what John said or…maybe what she thought was going on…. I'm sorry. I can't say I liked her but, I didn't what it to be like this. For your sake."

Britt turned around and went to her, pulling Casey closer to him. His body radiated heat, so much so she realized how cold she had gone. Her eyes nearly closed as he tipped her chin up.

"You have no reason to be sorry. What happened between Crystal and I happened because I was blind to who she really was. It was my fault. Not John's, not yours. Besides, it's nice to know who your real friends are."

For one wild second, Casey was sure he was going to kiss her and for one wild second she knew she'd kiss back. He stopped just inches from her face, holding her. They stayed like that, close…oh so close. Until she realized it was as far as he would go. As far as she would go, because there would always have to be those few inches between them. Casey smiled wanly and reached up to fix his hat, touch his mask, then his scarf. Pulling and tucking, her hand finally resting on his chest.

"Yes, it is nice." she whispered.

* * *

><p>Kato held up a small, L-shaped gas delivery system. Hollowed out, it contained a mini canister of diluted Hornet gas. The top of the canister was exposed so Kato could depress it with his thumb. At the end, a cap could be removed so the gas could escape. A simple pressure mechanism.<p>

"The Hornet gas is as diluted as I'd dared to make it go. Anymore and I fear there would be no effect."

"Okay. Good. Keep it with you."

Dark eyes stared at Britt. The plan for after they'd found Jack was something he knew they'd never agree upon. Kato would take John, and leave Jack to Britt. There was no reason Kato couldn't trust his partner's good sense, but he still felt a need for assurance.

The mini gas 'gun' disappeared to a pocket. Kato put himself firmly in front of Britt, stopping him from approaching the tool table next to which the key to revealing the Black Beauty hung.

"I remind you of that promise we made each other when we first started this: never would we knowingly and willingly take a life. The Green Hornet is a man of his word, a man of honor. He has stayed true to that vow. I would hate to see him lose that honor now. Or the trust of his friends."

Britt looked him over quietly, his eyes glinting even in the darkness.

"The Green Hornet would hate to lose that trust too, Kato. That promise we made stands, and it always will."

Kato grinned and immediately turned to approach the tool bench. Above it hung several wrenches. The first twist of a wrench head sent the room into a green glow. The second lifted the garage floor under Britt's white convertible and activated the clamping system. The third brought the clamps down on the front and back end of the convertible and flipped it and the raised floor to reveal the gleaming Black Beauty. The final twist brought the floor down and popped the driver's and back driver's side passenger doors open.

Kato took up his usual post as driver while Britt slid in the back. The gas gun was drawn and checked; the same for the Hornet Sting.

The Green Hornet and Partner were ready.

"Let's roll, Kato."

* * *

><p>Rain lashed the window. Thunder rattled the wooden frame. Lightening intermittently lit up the darkened room. A bottle clinked the rim of a glass. Smithy's hand shook as he poured.<p>

"Haven't you had enough?"

Smithy paused at this only to down the glass of amber liquid a moment later. He glanced up at George-mildly taking in the man's scornful look. He looked to Dirty Rat as he twitched and squirmed in his chair. His eyes went everywhere but Smithy's.

The old Irishman went back to George and clucked his tongue. Poured another glass.

"There ain't enough whiskey in the world for me tonight, boyo. Just ain't enough…."

George immediately moved from his post at the only window to confront him.

"Jack knows what he's doing. He told me everything's going as it should. And there ain't no reason we shouldn't stick around for 'em. Okay?"

"The boy is alive, Georgy. That ain't 'goin' as it should', lad."

A quivering hand brought the glass to his lips once more. George sneered and snatched it from his hand to shatter it on the floor. He went to do the same with the bottle but the Irishman was faster. He was standing, bottle in one hand, a pocket knife in the other, before George could reach for it.

"C'mon, Georgy." Smithy warned. "I'm an old man stuck in a young man's game. Let this old man play it his way-through the bottle. Eh?"

George looked to the knife and swallowed. His hands fell to his side in a small shrug. Smithy' shoulders unhunched and he flicked the blade closed.

"That's a good boy."

The rhythmic knocking of 'Shave and a hair cut' sounded on the door from outside. George pulled it open and Karl shuffled in. He shook out his jacket and tossed it at Dirty Rat. Huffing and rubbing his hands together, he reached for the bottle. Smithy begrudgingly gave it up.

"Not a body out there. No one in his right mind would be! George, I swear- Jack's right! Nobody's gonna be out here, lookin'. They're all back at the apartments. Why ya gotta do this watch shift crap? Besides, it's raining like crazy out there…."

"Because Jack ain't gonna always be right! Ya know, one day…he's gonna be wrong and we're all gonna be in for keeps. I don't want _that _time to be _this _time!"

"For a man who was just spountin' off about how great our dear ol' Jack is…you don't sound like you wanna believe what you say." Smithy hiccupped.

George glared and the old man shrugged. Dirty Rat was the next target.

"Rat! C'mon! You're up!"

Rat darted a look to him and swayed to his feet. George hauled him to the door by the arm.

"Okay-remember: you wanna come back in: shave and a hair cut. If you see someone, _anyone_, you take those pebbles on the window sill out there and toss them at the glass."

"A-and th-then I-I get out-out of there?"

"Right. Get under the dock and hang there until the coast is clear."

Rat nodded and grabbed Karl's coat. When the door closed, he scoffed.

"Why the hell we trust that bum, I'll never know."

George didn't reply, again back at his window. Trying to catch Rat through the rain as he took up his post. Watching and waiting. Watching and waiting.

* * *

><p>The lightening would briefly snatch their element of surprise away before darkness settled again. They did all they could to retain it, running without headlights, and a silent engine.<p>

Parking a block away from the docks, the Green Hornet and partner slipped their way through the front gate, thanks to a quick spin of the Hornet Sting. The rain had slicked the wooden walkways, and took the salt out of the air.

"Quiet." The partner observed.

"Too quiet."

The docks were a complex, almost confusing array of large, mostly empty buildings where cargo was unloaded and waited to be shipped out. There was no way the two could or would check all the buildings but they'd already discussed that. The police had searched the obvious places. There was no need to retread those grounds; the men they were looking for wouldn't have moved from their inobvious hiding spot between then and now.

The smaller man crept in front of his larger partner, low and slow. Past the warehouses, the main offices; deeper into the docks and to the farthest edge of it. The partner pulled up, eyes boring into the darkness.

"What is it?" The Green Hornet pulled abreast of him.

"A figure."

"Where?"

A flash of lightening and night ended for a minute. They froze, hoping the figure wouldn't see them-as they spied on him. Thunder rumbled. The Hornet took the lead as his partner slunk behind him.

* * *

><p>Dirty Rat shivered. Cool-the rain was whipping up something fierce.<p>

He could really use a drink right about now. Or maybe two or three. Smithy had the bottle though, and that old man didn't like to give it up for nothing.

Lightening flashed and he closed his eyes, hunkering down for the following thunder. As its rumble faded, he opened his eyes and settled back down.

Rat didn't like this. He had a bad, bad feeling. Didn't know why, but he did. Hands clenched in his pockets.

Just a drink….

* * *

><p>George peered hard out the window. That last flash of lightening. He could have sworn….<p>

"Quit it, George. Sit down and have a sip. Smithy'll let ya have the bottle. Right, old man?"

A grunt in response.

"No thanks. You know, I've got a bad feeling about this all of a sudden…."

"Join the club." Smithy slurred.

Karl shrugged and took the unlit cigar out of his mouth. He checked it over, frowned and tossed it on the floor. Reaching into his shirt's breast pocket, he pulled out a new one. Unwrapped it and took a sniff. Cheap but good.

"I could have sworn I saw something out the-."

The tell-tale scrape of a match and the spit of a flame. George whirled around to see the small area around their poor excuse for a table alight as Karl lit his stogy.

"The hell you doin'?"

Karl waved the flame out and pulled out another match. George moved to swat it away but Karl flashed him a look and calmly continued.

When that one was waved out, Karl puffed on it before speaking.

"Look. If someone was out there, _even _Rat would be able to alert us. Only he hasn't. Cuz there's no one out there. Relax. You worry too much."

He pulled two more cigars, tossing them to Smithy and George. "Smoke?"

* * *

><p>The Green Hornet stopped a few feet from the figure, who leaned, hunched, against a wooden structure the size of a small cabin. The rain was falling harder, sideways. He couldn't be sure…was that a window?<p>

Suddenly, a small light from within. A flame from a match. The hazy silhouettes of three people through dirty glass and driving rain. He motioned to his partner: _move back_. _On three?_

* * *

><p>This rain was crazy! Karl was right-no one was out here! Shave and a hair cut, Georgy said. The pebbles if there was a problem but no prob-.<p>

"For a lookout, you're not very good at paying attention."

Rat froze. The voice cut through him like a knife through butter. Then the press of a gun to his ribs. He slowly turned. Lightening flashed. The mask, the eyes.

The Green Hornet.

"Password?"

* * *

><p>George moved back to the window.<p>

"Goddamn this rain! Can't see a thing."

Smithy clucked his tongue. " 'sis a' boy-o st' out there?"

All three jumped at the knocks on the door. Shave and a haircut. Yet no one moved.

Shave and a haircut again.

"Let the bum in, George."

"Shut up, Karl!"

George went to the door, hand on the knob. The other going for his own knife in his belt. Twisting slowly, opening it a crack…and then it was off its hinges. George was on his back, his knife halfway across the room and the others frozen in their seats with a Hornet dart embedded smartly in their hands.

A small black-clad figure rose from a crouch and stood over George, almost daring him to stand. The doorway was filled completely. The bigger figure stepped over the threshold, pausing to look down at George. The two others stared slack-jawed, Karl's smoldering cigar on the table top.

The Green Hornet leveled a glared at each of them. "I have one question and I'm only going to ask once. Where is Jack Rickert?"

* * *

><p>"…you wouldn't kill me now, Jack. You don't got the <em>guts<em>! If you were going to, I'd be dead already. You're _scared! _Britt Reid's gonna have your head! Just wait an' see! You dirty, low-down, disgusting-!"

John's head was snapped to the left and his cheek was numb from Jack's backhand. He grabbed the boy's hair and pulled back as far as his neck would go; dug the gun into his throat.

"Shut. Up." Jack's voice shook under barely controlled anger. The wild fury in his eyes enough to make John stop.

Jack back off, gun clenched tightly in his grip. Ran a hand through his hair and went back to his own chair. This kid was driving him insane!

John knew the plan now, knew how things stood. Yet he still had the balls to throw it back in Jack's face with a laugh and spitball to the eye. Jack sighed and pressed the back of his hand to his eyes.

Jesus, he was tired…. His hand reflexively released the gun. Leaned away from the table…head tilted back…eyes closed. The tension between his shoulder blades lessening ….

* * *

><p>John swallowed and blinked. Hungry. He was hungry. Thirsty…his head hurt. He was pretty sure he had dried blood in his eye. And Jack was falling asleep just a few feet away, gun for the taking on the table. But there was no pulling loose. He had tried and was still trying-one perk of dock work: expert knots.<p>

…The hell had he been thinking? That Jack would take the deal and run? HA! Stupid, stupid, stupid. Dead…he was dead. It was just a matter of time. Jack said he needed money-John could get him more than enough. But after he'd gotten his money….

John dropped his throbbing head to his chest and gave another big yank on his ties. He felt the rope dig deeper into his wrists.

A flash of lightening. Storm was coming. Almost here, or maybe here already. Good…heavier rain…thunder…. Noise. Noise to keep him awake. Because if he went to sleep now…what's to say he'd wake up again? He shifted in his chair, heavy-lidded eyes firmly on Jack. More thunder, more lightening.

_Stay awake! Stay awake, damn it! …Gotta be awake…for Mary. Gotta be awake. For Britt. For Casey. For Kato…. I gotta stay awake. _

Eyelids closed…John tried to hang on to the loud rumbling overhead but it was washed out, faded. A mere echo. The drumming of the rain was fading too. He was fading. So there was no hearing that small creak from the porch. Or that slight crunch of gravel….

* * *

><p>Jack's eyes flew open and he snatched up his gun. Shot a quick look to John and saw the kid was out again. That noise hadn't been from him, then. He crept to the door, wishing he wasn't in a windowless cabin. Pressed his ear to the door.<p>

Nothing.

Stepping back, the gun ready, he pulled it slowly open. Rain fell in sheets, the lightening was intense and the thunder especially loud. But nothing else. He pursed his lips and lowered his arm. Jumpy…just jumpy. Letting the lonely woods getting the best of him. He stepped out on the porch just to make sure. When he turned around to go back in, a crash of thunder hit…but it mingled with something else. Deeper, constant…coming from behind him.

_…the hell?_

Turning, hand tightening on the gun's grip, Jack saw a black mass in the darkness. It hadn't been there just seconds before. He leaned forward, trying to make it out. What was it? A car? Was it a car?

He got his answer when the headlights suddenly flared a blinding green light.

"Argh!" Jack stumbled back, shielding his eyes. From above, a crushing force slammed his chest and knocked the air out of him. He was on his backside, gasping for air…fingers searching for his gun. A boot on top of his knuckles stopped that. He let his arm fall from his eyes and finally saw his attacker.

…A much smaller man, dressed entirely in black. A shrimp of a punk had put _him _down? That put the strength back into Jack's arms and legs and he lunged forward to take the man down by his knees. He found himself face down on the porch and the man now behind him. Who was this guy? The green headlights were still blazing through the rain…but the beams were now broken by a much bigger figure. It was walking toward them…slowly, menacingly. The grass and mud squelched loudly under his feet.

Jack tried to push himself up but for a little guy, his attacker was strong. The boot on his lower back felt like a steel weight resting on his kidneys. The larger shadow stopped in front of his face. He now saw the green overcoat, dark pants, and shined shoes. He tried to look up but his head was shoved down.

The figure reached down and hefted him up by his shirt. The littler guy fell behind his bigger partner and slammed the door shut once he'd pulled Jack over the threshold. A chair was brought forth and he was yanked up by his armpits into it.

The only light in the cabin, a battery operated lantern on the table, was switched on. Jack twisted away from the light. His chin was wrenched back toward it. What little air there was still in his lungs huffed out again.

Thunder crashed violently.

The Green Hornet stood before him, water dripping from his hat brim, his face. He held a black metal rod in one hand, tapping it against his leg. His other hand was clenched in a fist. The man's partner had moved behind Jack.

_ "…Gr-Green Hornet? _The hell you doing here?"

The Green Hornet cracked a cold smile. "You, Jack Rickert. I've come for you."

* * *

><p>The chair tipped backwards and Jack's head bounced off the floor. He blinked rapidly to keep his vision from going fuzzy. The Green Hornet circled. The cabin rattled under a barrage of rolling thunder.<p>

"You don't seem to understand, Jack. I'm calling the shots now. You try to change that and my partner here isn't going to take it lightly. Quite honestly…." he shot his friend a look. "I have a hard time controlling him as it is."

Knuckles cracked and Jack's eyes snapped to the little guy. The bastard had a cocky-ass grin on his face. Jack sneered.

"Him? Ha! Let me get up and we'll see what he's got! You too, you lousy son of a bitch!"

Jack went to get up but a heavy boot slammed down on his shoulder. It popped loudly.

"Jack, Jack, Jack." The patronizing tone grated on his frayed nerves. "You just don't get it, do you? You see…you've been playing a dangerous game here for far too long, my friend. This is my city. I own it, from the bottom up. If you've got a game to play, you play it on _my _terms! Not yours! But you didn't do that Jack, did you? And now we got a big problem."

More thunder.

The Hornet nodded to his partner and the man prodded Jack to his feet. He stood and massaged his shoulder, glaring between them. Another nod and the silent partner moved to John at the other end of the cabin.

The Hornet followed him with his gaze, settling on John's form. A strange glint was in his eye as he turned back to Jack.

"I talked to your boys, Jack. Quite a helpful lot. Should be glad to have them. Of course, they're a little tied up right now. But you'll see them soon enough. They let scum like you share jail cells usually."

Jack snarled and lunged for him. The metal rod came down hard across his temple and face. He staggered backwards, clutching his ear.

"Easy, Jack. Remember: my rules."

Jack sucked in a breath to steady himself and his temper.

"Good. Now." The Hornet glanced to his partner, who was crouched down by John and cutting the ropes away.

"I know everything. And I know what you need to make a break. So do you. Your boys mentioned a plan for ransoming our young friend out. That is something worth considering…only you were going to kill him anyway. Not a good idea. I'm here to offer you a better one. I've got connections, Jack. Connections big enough to get you the money and assets you need to get out of here."

"Yeah. And so what? Why the hell should you care? That kid means more to me than he should you!"

The Hornet sneered. "Why?" His eyes narrowed. "Because I want you out of my city."

* * *

><p>A cool hand against his cheek. Brushing his bangs out of his eyes. Gently checking the gash on his forehead. His mind sluggishly pulled itself together and he cracked an eye. Something black…and pale?…hovered in front of him. Huh. Closed and opened again. The other eye responded and lazily opened. His vision came together and he realized a face was just inches from his. He started and pulled up on his ties….<p>

Only the ties were gone. His hands came apart, sweaty, and his shoulders complained as he brought them to his lap. He rubbed his wrists…marveling at this change. He looked up again.

The face wore a black mask, cap and matching outfit. Dark eyes gazed kindly from behind the mask. The man spoke, quietly.

"Hello, John." A hint of an accent he couldn't quite place. "I'm going to get you out of here, okay?"

John blinked, unsure of what he was hearing. Take him out of here? He looked over the man's shoulder and his eyes reflexively narrowed under the light from the center of the room. Even in his state, he knew the much bigger man facing off against Jack was the infamous Green Hornet. It was the mask, the outfit. His eyes flashed back to the other man, still crouched in front of him.

"The Green Hornet…and you're his partner!"

The man nodded. "We've come for you."

"Why? I…I haven't done anything to you guys. "

The man grinned. "No, but your friend Jack has. Come. Let's go."

Thunder slammed the cabin once more.

"You didn't answer my question: why? Who cares about Jack…you guys are suppose to be ten times worse than he is."

Gentler still. "Because Britt Reid wants you back."

John watch the man stand in one fluid moment and stick out his hand. But not before he looked behind him…the Green Hornet had Jack cornered. Things were about to escalate and John couldn't be there for that.

"We must go now."

John swallowed and shrugged. "Okay. But I don't know how steady I am."

"Just stand and we'll see."

He put weight on his legs and eased up out of the chair. Sure enough, he pitched forward the moment he he tried to take a step. The man wrapped his arm around John's waist.

"I have you. Just walk."

John made a conscious effort to put one foot in front of another, leaning on his new friend for more than ample support.

"Hey, uh…you guys didn't bring food with you by any chance, did you?'

The arm tightened around his waist. "No. We didn't. Where you're going, you'll be fed and taken care of. I promise."

"Oh yeah? Where's zat?"

They were coming up on the Green Hornet and Jack.

"Somewhere safe."

* * *

><p>Jack watched the little man lead his life line towards the door.<p>

"Hey! Where's he takin' him?"

The Hornet looked to his partner and then to John. Their eyes met and for a moment…the Green Hornet allowed Britt Reid to slip into place. His gaze softened and a tender hand reached out to touch the boy's chin. A small smile and a nod. John gave him the closest thing to a smile as he could muster.

Another look to the partner and then the kindness was gone. He had turned back to Jack, moving directly in front of the man and blocking his view of the partner leaving with John. The door opened, briefly allowing the green headlights, and lightening to flood the room, before it closed.

Now for the deal breaker-quite literally.

"Oh yes. There's one condition to our deal: the boy stays with me."

"The hell he will! He stays, but with _me_!"

The Hornet's gaze chilled several degrees. "Still don't want to play by my rules, huh? If you're that thick then there's no deal at all! It's done-_you're done!__ One call._ To the District Attorney. It's been made, Jack. Only a few hours left before you're state property."

Jack had gone rigid, shaking. Ready to explode. The Hornet closed in, the black metal rod still tapping his thigh.

"But not before I'm through with you."

* * *

><p>John was in the backseat of the Green Hornet's car when he heard the first crash and a strangled yell through the thunder. The boy brought his head up and tried to get out again.<p>

"Jack's gonna kill 'em! You gotta get in there and help the Hornet!"

A second and third crash. Lightening danced overhead as rain assaulted the car and drenched the black-masked man. This man straightened, grim-faced. He looked back at the cabin.

"No. No, he will be fine. My priority is you, John. That is the plan we made. Please."

John hesitated. This man was promising him safety, food and care. Yet why did he feel the strange need to go back and help the Green Hornet? As if he could do anything anyway.

"John?" Kind yet urging.

He sighed and sat back. The man crouched down and pulled a small white object from his pocket. He held it up to show John. From the cabin, the fight had taken on a much more frenzied sound. The storm seemed to heightened itself in an attempt to match the new pace.

"This is a very small, very safe form of sleeping gas. You will sleep as long as we need you to but it won't hurt you."

John swallowed. "Will I remember you and the Green Hornet?"

"Perhaps. It affects everyone differently."

"Then tell me your name before you gas me. I…I would probably remember that."

The man shook his head and smiled sadly. "That doesn't matter. Goodbye, John."

* * *

><p>The tone…that's all it took to wake her. Casey sat up on the couch, shaking off the haze of sleep. She reached for her robe and slipped it on. Fumbling for the light on Britt's desk, she went to the bookcase.<p>

The keys were pulled down and the fireplace rose. The Green Hornet stepped off the lift, followed by his partner. Casey pushed the keys back and everything went back to normal. Outside, the storm had finally lessened to just a small pattering of rain.

Kato took off his cap and mask, shaking them out. He pulled the top buttons on his uniform loose and went to the kitchen. The light flipped on and running water sounded. The Hornet dipped his head as he took off his fedora and mask.

Britt Reid pulled the scarf off and then the coat. Casey finally snapped to it and reached to help him. She took the Hornet outfit from him and draped it over the coach back. She saw Britt was consciously ignoring her gaze.

"I don't know why you're acting so embarrassed. I've seen you in much worse shape than this."

Britt flinched and turned to face her. His slow work of taking off his gloves told her his hands were swollen.

"Here."

She gently grabbed his hands and worked carefully, pulling an inch at a time. Up close, she saw his injuries weren't nearly as bad as she had feared. Britt was cut, he was bruised but he was standing and his eyes had a satisfied gleam.

"Here's one." She tossed the glove on the couch and looked his hand over, massaging the knuckles.

"I think you wore the wrong gloves."

A small grin. "I think you're right."

"Let's get the other one off."

Kato came back with a bowl full of warm water, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and concealer.

"Sit." Kato's voice was clipped.

Casey followed Britt to the couch and placed the bare hand in the bowl. She finally pulled the second glove off and that hand went in as well.

She sat back and Kato went to work on Britt's scrapes.

"John's okay, isn't he?"

They both looked at her. Britt spoke quietly.

"John's as fine as can be expected. A little beat up, hungry…but he's where he needs to be."

"Did you take him to the Orphanage?"

"Of course. An anonymous tip was left at around four this morning with a Mrs. Margaret Carter, to expect a drop off of an important package this morning. It is now…."

"Seven in the morning." Kato finished for him.

"In the next hour, we'll get a call from the Orphanage that John is fine, being fed and cared for as we speak."

Casey nodded and looked to the girl's room. "I'm glad."

She went back to Britt and asked the next vital question.

"What about Jack Rickert?"

Again, Kato stopped working on Britt and they both looked to her. Britt rolled his shoulders and took his hands out of the water. His jaw worked as he flexed them, feeling the bones pop and crack.

"He got what was coming to him. Him and his cronies. Scanlon can have a field day with them, I did what I wanted to do."


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

Frank Scanlon took a deep breath of fresh morning air. Sunlight sparkled off the hood of his car as he left it at the curb of the State Home for the Lost and Orphaned. The large brick and stone building towered at the top of an imposing set of steps. Its big wooden doors opened on rusty hinges, squeaking an echo into the open ceiling of the foyer.

Margaret Carter met him in the middle and shook his hand.

"Quite the night, Mr. Scanlon."

"Indeed. Very eventful. How is he?"

Mrs. Carter sighed and took him to the elevator. "For a boy who was held captive by such a cruel man, brutalized and terrified…he's doing well. Eating everything we put in front of him. Although I must say I'm a little surprised by how cooperative he's been. A completely different John from the last time I saw him."

Scanlon smiled. "Britt Reid has that effect on people."

The elevator doors opened to the medical wing. Through the largely empty hall of beds to the private rooms. John was in the last, sitting up straight as one of the Orphanage's doctors checked his head.

John pulled away the moment he saw Scanlon and Mrs. Carter enter.

"Doc, c'mon. You've checked my head twice today already. Don't you think that's enough?"

The doctors smiled and stood back.

"He's going to be fine, Ma'am. Another full day of rest. Tonight he'll be able to leave."

"Good. Thank you, Doctor."

The man gathered his things and nodded a goodbye. He closed the door behind him. John stared up at Scanlon though his eyelashes.

"I suppose you want to hear my side of the story, huh?" He finally asked. Scanlon sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Maybe."

"…Maybe? What the hell kind of lawyer are you?"

Scanlon put his hand out. "Easy. I know it's strange but…I've got enough information to put things together. Mrs. White has been quite helpful in that department. Everyone in the apartment has. So helpful I doubt you'll even have to testify against Jack Rickert."

John laid back. "Yeah. They were all okay people. Mrs. White especially. I wouldn't mind testifying against that guy, though. Might even be fun to watch _him_ squirm for a change…." He swallowed and scratched at his bandage.

"It was… kind of nice to finally see him meet somebody who wouldn't take his crap."

"The Green Hornet?"

John shot a look to him. "Yeah…"

"The Hornet was busy last night, even before he came to you. We have everybody involved in this either down at the County Lock-up, or with arrest warrants out on them. Thanks to him."

"But you're not going to arrest _him, _right? He's not as bad as you all make him out to be, y'know. He…he seemed to care about me last night. "

Scanlon shook his head. "No…no, I'm not going to go after him for this. The Hornet did a good turn. In his own way, of course."

" I, uh, I just hope he's okay. The last thing I remember before the Hornet's partner gassed me…he and Jack were really going at it…."

Scanlon leaned back, a knowing look on his face. "Oooh. Don't you worry. The Hornet's fine. Now, Jack on the other hand…."

John grinned, relaxing. "Yeah. Right."

The DA patted the boy's knee and stood. "I'll be back later. Britt and the others too. We have a surprise for you."

* * *

><p>"My, my. Don't we look stiff. Rough night?"<p>

Britt Reid scowled as he lowered himself into a chair.

"What gave you _that_ idea, Frank?"

"Besides you sleeping until three in afternoon?"

Britt's neck cracked as he twisted it side to side.

"And that."

Casey appeared from the kitchen with Kato.

"Lunch. And you better not say no, _Mr. Reid_."

Britt swallowed. "Yes, _Ms. Case."_

He stood, more bones cracking in his back. "Geez, Britt. You really _are_ out of practice."

Britt grabbed Scanlon's arm as he passed. "What did you want me to do, Frank? I wasn't going to kill him, you knew that. But I wasn't about to let you have him without so much as a slap on the wrist. You knew that too! So what's with the needling, huh?"

Frank eased his arm from under Britt's grip. "Needling? I'm not _needling_. If you took it that way, I'm sorry. How could I, Britt? You did a good thing: saved John and put the bad guy away."

Scanlon's voice hardened. "Only the bad guy can't actually _speak_ at the moment. He's _stuck _in semi-consciousness. Until he wakes up fully, I'm relying on his buddies you _didn't _scare their mouths shut. Lucky for John, they've given me enough that he won't have to testify."

The District Attorney fixed his glass and faced Britt. The afternoon sun caught the concealer over his cuts because he hadn't bothered to rub it in properly.

"That kid will _never_ forget how the infamous Green Hornet saved his life. All he wanted to know this morning was if you were okay or not; if I was going to arrest you. You're his hero-his own Lone Ranger, as ironic as that is.

"You _know_ every villain you meet will exploit any weakness they find in you: physical, mental, emotional. They've done it with Ms. Case and they'll keep doing it. You've saved her because, as much as you don't want to admit it and as much as I shouldn't be saying this…you love her. They did it with John, without knowing it. Regardless, you came _this close _to losing. Remember that, Britt. Remember that because it's a lesson worth learning."

"Britt, Mr. Scanlon: lunch." Casey called again.

"We're coming, Ms. Case."

Scanlon looked to Britt once more from over the top of his bifocals. He saw the hurt and the conflict in his friend's eyes. Realizing the truth is hard, isn't it? Britt Reid would have to love at the risk of losing that precious love. He knew it, deep down, even before Frank Scanlon had dared to shove it in his face.

"I just wanted you to know how I felt, Britt. That's all."

* * *

><p>Britt held Mary's hand on one side, Bridgett's on the other. He felt the seven year old practically vibrate.<p>

"I can't wait to see him! You think John'll tell us about the Green Hornet? That had to be _so_ scary!"

"I don't know, Bridgett. We'll have to see."

The Orphanage was preparing for night, tucking in all the children. Save for one.

John appeared at the other end of the foyer, walking in between Scanlon and Mrs. Carter. He saw Britt and halted. Bridgett pulled her hand free and took off toward him. She hit with a choking embrace and this time John didn't shove her away.

Britt smiled and knelt down next to Mary.

"Go say hello to your brother." he whispered. She peered up at him, still silent. John pulled Bridgett gently to the side. He approached slowly, calling his sister's name. In a split second, she was running from Britt's side and into his arms. John held her to him as if never to let go.

"Mary! Mary, Jack's gone! He's never going to hurt us again. I made sure of it. Just like I told you I would."

Mary reached up with a little hand to touch the bandage over his eye. John pushed it away.

"I'm okay. He tried but he couldn't beat me."

She let go and turned around to look at Britt. They walked to him and Britt knelt to gather the two in his arms.

"You know how to age a man real quick, John. You know that?"

The boy laughed. "Yeah, don't I?"

They then went to Casey and Kato, greeting both just as warmly. Bridgett, Scanlon and Mrs. Carter rejoined them.

John and Mary were back with Britt, leaning into him. He was leading them toward the doors.

"Where are we going? Back to the apartment?"

Britt smiled sadly, hiding a grimace as John unknowingly nudged a bruise over his ribs.

"No."

"No?"

Scanlon suddenly cut in front of them and pushed the heavy doors open. His car again sat at the curb. A passenger was waiting. He stood and step out. John pulled to a stop on the top step, staring hard at the figure.

He knew that face. Even in the fading light, he recognized it. A quick bewildered look to Britt, Scanlon…Casey, Kato and finally Mrs. Carter.

"Who is that, John?" Mary whispered.

"…That's our dad, Mary."

And the man was suddenly taking the steps two at a time.

"John! Mary!"

As much as tried to stop himself from jumping into the man's arms, John couldn't resist the urge as the man closed in.

"John! Mary! My God!"

"Dad!"

He crushed them, covering them both in kisses and all but sobbing into their hair.

"My babies. I'm _so_ sorry. _So, so sorry_. I should have taken you with me all those years ago! I'll never forgive myself for being so _selfish_!"

John shook his head, eyes brimming with tears. "I doesn't matter now, Dad. It doesn't matter."

"It _does _matter! Your mother…the mess she got into…. That Jack fellow…you! The Green Hornet! To think I could have saved you two from this…."

"Why are you here?"

The man straightened, still clutching them to his body. He pointed with his chin toward the others.

"Mr. Scanlon called me soon after they'd learned what had happened. Flew me in on the first flight out of Tucson. Told me the whole story-as much as he knew of it, anyway. Said I shouldn't lose hope because everything was being done that could be done.

"I stayed at his office the entire night, until the Green Hornet broke the whole thing wide open. Since then, your friend Mr. Reid and Mr. Scanlon have been nothing but kind-especially Mr. Reid."

He went to Britt and stuck out his hand. "I know I…I told you how much I appreciated you taking them in; treating them like they were your own. I know I did but…I gotta say it again."

Britt smiled ruefully as he shook the man's hand. "I should thank _you_…for having such great children. They taught me more than I figured on. I wish…I wish they were mine. But, heh, that just wouldn't work, I know that. They need _you_."

John's eyes narrowed. "Wait…wait. What's going on here? Britt?"

Britt stepped around their father and knelt in front of him. "You don't belong here, in this Orphanage. And as much as it hurts to say this…you don't belong with me, either. Not when you have a real family to take care of you and your sister."

"Your father has come for you, John." Mrs. Carter spoke up. "We've all had a nice long talk and it's settled. You and your sister are being released to him."

"And because of the fact you are such a minor, John, I couldn't have you and _don't _need you here for the trial." Scanlon added.

John felt his father return behind him, hand on his head. "We can leave tonight, John! Right now. You know…" his voice was soft. "I remarried after your mom and I divorced. She's a real nice lady. Loves kids…but she…she couldn't have any of her own. So when I phoned her and said I was bringing you back…. You'll love her, John. And you'll love Arizona. We've got a real nice place."

The boy blinked, trying to processing all these changes. He saw Bridgett standing amidst the adults.

He swallowed. "If…if we have to go…I want Bridgett to come too."

Bridgett blanched, unsure to stay put or run to John. She looked at Mrs. Carter, so hopeful. Tears fell down her face.

"Oh, please! Please, Mrs. Carter. Ma'am. Please! I want to go. Can I?"

Mrs. Carter patted her head and sighed. "Yes. If Mr. Clarkson will have you too. It's a big change from having none to three children."

The man beamed and held his hand out to Bridgett. "Not at all! My wife and I…we always wanted kids, like I said. I knew mine were somewhere, but I had no idea we'd get so lucky. I'd be glad to take her."

"Then consider the paperwork done. She's yours."

Britt was still crouched in front of John. The boy looked back to him. "Then…um…I guess this is goodbye.

"I guess so. Bags are packed and ready to go. Mr. Scanlon will drive you to the airport."

John smiled through the tears and felt Britt's strong arms around him. "You take care of yourself, John. Don't forget us back here, huh?"

"Never! And you…" John pulled away just enough to meet his eyes. "You gotta come and visit us. Okay? You have to."

Britt raised his eyebrows at their father.

"We'd be honored to have ya, Mr. Reid."

Britt nodded. "Then I'll have to get out there as soon as I can."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out…a book. "In the meantime, here's something for that long flight back."

John took it, almost reverently. "_The Lone Ranger_, by Gaylord Du Bois! You mean…I can have it? It's mine?"

He looked down at it, running his hand of the cover. A choked "Thanks" and one last, crushing hug. Mary did the same. They moved to Casey. John kissed her on the cheek.

"I, um…never told you this. Really only mentioned it, kind of, to Britt, but…. You reminded me so much of our mother. You have _no idea _how much. She was just as kind and pretty as you. If only she could have had your chances in life…. That's why I didn't mind you holding Mary that day in Britt's office. Because, right then, _you were her_."

Casey felt tears begin to well. She quickly brushed them away as she hugged him again. "Thank you, John." she whispered into his hair. Clutched Mary and kissed her forehead. They went to Kato last.

"You…you told me how to say buddy in Chinese, but I can't remember what it was."

"_Xiong di."_

_ "_That's right. _Xiong di."_

Kato smiled. "_Xiong di."_

John hugged him tightly around the middle. "I'll remember that from now on."

John let his sister get to him. Kato whispered something in her ear; something that made her smile and hugged tighter.

"John, Mary! Wait!"

Everyone turned to see Nurse Jennie Cameron pushing the front doors open. John and Mary reached her before she'd even stepped out. Jennie bent to kiss both their heads.

"We're going home, Jennie. My dad, he's come for us-for Bridgett too!"

"That's wonderful!" she brushed hair off his bandage. "You're brave boy, John. I'll miss you. Good luck."

John took Mary by the hand and went to their father. "We should probably go now."

Scanlon left the others to follow the four down the steps to his car. He opened the back door for the children and the front passenger side for the father. Casey's arm slipped around Britt's as the engine started and the car pulled away. He covered her hand.

"Did you put it in there?" she whispered as they all waved goodbye.

"Yes."

* * *

><p>The three waved through the back window as they left. John slunk down in his seat and eagerly flipped open the book. Something on the title page caught his eye, however…. He turned back to it, staring. Uncomprehending. Ran a finger over it.<p>

…The Hornet seal. The Hornet seal? The Hornet Seal! What! He clambered to look out the back window again. The figures on the steps were just visible before the car turned the corner. John swallowed, pinched himself-even touched the sticker again. Bridgett and Mary had yet to notice…his father was too busy talking to Scanlon.

But the District Attorney…. He went out of his way to catch the boy's eye. Was that a smile and a wink?

No…no, it can't be. How could it be? Britt Reid was the….? John stopped himself. Thought about it…and the more he thought about it, it made sense. In his mind's eye, he saw Britt's smiling face cover itself with the mask of the Green Hornet. Saw the kindness in the Green Hornet's eyes last night and instead it was Britt looking back at him.

The Lone Ranger's great nephew….

John laughed out loud, clutching the open book to his chest. He kept laughing until tears ran down his face.

_That lousy dope_!

-GH-


End file.
